A Question of Faith
by Snowsheba
Summary: Tensions between the religions in Sinnoh has always been running high, for the foreign Order of Kyurem has been bent on the destruction of the native Order of Arceus for years. But when the corrupt leader of the Order of Kyurem is assassinated and they declare war on the Order of Arceus, only the Flame Riders can prevent the fall of the entire region. OC submission open by PM only
1. Prologue - Trouble

**Edit 11-29-12: added some more stuff and cleaned up a few mistakes here and there.**

**Edit 1/18/13: more checks for typos, more words added, et cetera.**

**Edit 4-14-13. Yet more editing.**

**For new readers: this is an OC story. If you're interested in sending your OC, please contact me via PM - and only PM. The form is on the bottom of my profile page, and yes, they are still being accepted.**

**Rated T for swearing (lots of it), blood, violence, and death.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon mostly because someone else/more than one someone else does already.**

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"_Please_ tell me you're kidding."

The person standing across him, a Budew from the looks of it, looked down at his neat, green shoes as if they were the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his life. He nursed his lower lip with his teeth as he murmured, "No, Speaker. I am not."

The Pokemon across from him stared at the Budew's bowed head for a long moment, looking but not seeing or registering, his body taut as a bowstring. Then he abruptly stood up from behind his desk with a clatter, pens and papers flying off the smooth surface in every which way, running both hands through his white hair. His fingers, clothed in fingerless white gloves, crackled with sparks, the electricity dancing in the strands. "I – I see. This is troubling." Then, mostly to himself, his fingers pressing against his temples, "This is _very_ troubling."

The Budew lifted his head upward slightly, green eyes focusing intently on the disconcerted Pachirisu in front of him. He had ceased biting his lower lip and had taken to wringing his hands behind his back, and worked up the courage after a few silent seconds to ask tentatively, "Speaker, do you wish that I – "

"No, no, no. Please leave; I need to think." When the Grass-type paused once more, hesitant, words about to form on his tongue, the Speaker turned his head, still standing behind his mahogany desk, his blue eyes hard and glimmering like sapphires. "Dismissed," he said coldly, the words sounding harsh coming out of his mouth, snipping the _s_'s off sharply.

The Budew gave a low bow, eyes focused on the toes of his practical brown shoes, and hurried out of the room, scattering the papers all over the floors and walls as he went and as the door slammed behind him. Niko slumped back into his chair, falling back with a shuddery sigh and leting his head fall into one hand, elbow resting on the desk, eyes narrowed to slits, the world blurring in and out of view.

"The Speaker of Kyurem is dead," he told himself out loud, letting his own low voice wash over him, trying to get his numb brain to function at at least a fraction of its previous speed. The words he uttered greased the gears and they began to crank, to turn in his mind, and he added to himself, "She's been assassinated."

_The bitch had it coming_, a cool, neutral part of his mind said, and Niko shoved it back angrily. Perhaps she had, but it was still a human life, and while she hadn't been exactly moral she had been a fantastic leader, in the sense that she made her Order wildly successful. But that was only if one could count someone who led the crusade to end the entire 'freedom of religion' law in Sinnoh a good leader. _The Order of Kyurem is going to be utter chaos_, Niko thought, frowning, sitting up and pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. _Those devout to Him are going to be mourning in the streets._

"Not only that," he said out loud, absently pulling at his scarf with a single finger, the electricity being repelled by the yellow fabric. "She's been against us since she became the Speaker of Kyurem." His already pale face got even whiter at the realization, and he bit the words off as if they were venom as he hissed, "They're going to blame us for her death."

_And if they blame us, they'll take up arms._ Niko pulled his scarf above his nose, breathing in the scent; it used to be his mother's. _We'll have to fight them_.

He pushed himself from the worn wood of his desk and proceeded to begin pacing around the room, focusing on his white shoes as they stepped in and out of his vision. _Why is it the Order of Arceus has so many warriors?_ Niko asked himself, pulling his scarf down from his face before shoving his hands into the pockets of his white pants. _I wanted to be the Speaker of a peaceful Order; instead, I'll have to order my Servants to kill._ He shuddered, then stilled and forced his muscles to relax, ceasing his pacing and stopping behind his desk. He practically fell into his chair once more, requiring him to shift in order to come to a more comfortable position in the worn cushions.

"Maybe they'll accept a treaty," Niko muttered, the words sounding hollow as soon as he spoke them. No, they wouldn't sign, let alone _look_ at a treaty; once enraged, the wrath of Kyurem was said to be legendary. Those who swore their lives to Him would fight or die fighting, so the rumors went. Casting his deep blue eyes upward, Niko drummed his fingers on the table. For the first time in his life, he didn't have a plan on him right away. He didn't have some sort of fabulous, intricate ploy that would get them out of trouble. That was why Arceus had chosen him to Speak for Him, at least according to the Speaker of Uxie – his ability to plan ahead.

Niko hated the feeling of being put on the spot; his schedules, color-coded, precise, and neat demonstrated his need for time to do, well, anything. He was always on time to meetings, always evaded fights with the other conflicting religions in the Sinnoh region (though it was mostly the Order of Kyurem that had caused problems, not that he had any personal dislike of that particular god), always won any battles - always successful, always correct, always _right_, provided he was given time to strategize.

But now…

The same Budew bustled into the door, breathing hard, as he was slamming his hands on the table, shouting in frustration, "Arceus _dammit_!"

The person across from his paused, mouth open halfway, green eyes wide, immediately folding in on himself somewhat as his shoulders hunched and he took a faltering step back. Niko sighed, embarrassed and annoyed at being caught at his lack of composure, and struggled to keep his voice level as he said through gritted teeth, "My apologies. What can I do for you?"

"Speaker," the Budew began shakily. He fell silent, cleared his throat, and said again, voice steady, straightening his stance, "Speaker, the Order of Kyurem demands we confess our crime."

"Already?" _Shit, why now of all times..._ "It hasn't even been an hour."

"I – I know, Speaker." The Budew looked down at the paper in his only slightly trembling, scanning the words calmly despite him obviously being frazzled. After a few moments he looked up and gave his Speaker the short version by saying curtly, "They say if we don't confess, they will burn us to the ground."

Niko covered his eyes with his arm and exhaled through his teeth, a hissing sound that made the Budew flinch. "Fuck," he swore softly, anxiety making his heart pound at impossible speeds and sparks fly from his hands. "I knew we would go to war someday, but all of this over _religion_?"

The Budew did not reply, waiting for his Speaker to pull himself together and snap out orders. Everyone devout to Arceus knew of Niko's stoicism when the situation called for it. Even so, it was many minutes before Niko sat up, blue eyes hard as ice. He gazed intently at the Budew, who stared right back, unfazed. "I need you to inform the Priests and Priestesses of Dialga to temporarily slow time; I need it to think. Can you do that?"

"Of course, Speaker." The Budew came forward and placed the paper from the Order of Kyurem on his desk, sliding it toward him before quickly backing off. It was nothing fancy, just a piece of parchment, but the words therein contained the fate of his entire Order. "Is there anything else I should do?"

Niko stared at the Budew, long and hard. The Grass-type, for his part, didn't even flinch, instead waiting patiently for him to speak.

"A poffin," Niko said at last, averting his eyes to the sheet in front of him, drawing it towards him with a single finger. He brushed other papers away from his desk and picked up a pen, scanning and beginning to underline key terms. The Budew bowed and was leaving as Niko murmured to himself, "A poffin would be lovely."

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**Niko is the OC of Raven Kat.**


	2. 1 - Discord

**Chapter 1.**

**Edit 1/19/13: Looked through chapter, fixed typos some.**

**Edit 4-14-13: MOAR EDITING, YO. All in one day, hoo hoo... yeah.**

**I do not own Pokemon.**

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_**I will be accepting OCs for the entirety of this story. If you wish to submit the form is on my profile page. Do it by PM only!**_

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She barely looked up when he stalked into the room, instead flicking a blond curl irritably out of her eye as she scanned the newspaper in front of her. She did, however, acknowledge his presence with a nod as he settled his tall, lanky form into the seat across from her.

"Anything new?" he asked in a rare moment of interaction, slumping into the chair and looking very much the lazy teenager. Then, realizing his undignified position, he abruptly sat up and squared his shoulders, pulling at the black coat draped around his lithe body and giving him the sharp look of a gentleman.

She rolled her eyes; Nero, despite all appearances of being a composed and reclusive individual, was always a trifle bit uncomfortable with females. Even she, as the only person he called his friend, made him slightly anxious and nervous, which was amusing yet a little sad at the same time. "I'm surprised you haven't heard," she said sarcastically, flipping the page with what could only be described as a bored look. Her light green eyes flicked up to meet his dark blue one for a moment as she added, with the tone of someone who has said the same thing many times before, "You always being a perfectionist and all."

He shifted, his arm rising to rest on the table and his finger tapping out a rhythm that she couldn't recognize on the worn wood. When he spoke, the condescending tone was wasted on her, for she was far more surprised he had actually bothered to reply at all: "I meant _besides_ the assassination of the Speaker of Kyurem, Vee."

She shook her head, blond curls bouncing around her cherubic face, and dropped the paper on the table with a grunt. It seemed her peaceful alone time in the temple's backroom was over. "As far as I can tell from this, the Order of Kyurem is freaking out and the Order of Arceus has no idea what's going on." She studied her companion; per usual, the right side of his face was hidden by dark hair, and not for the first time she wondered vaguely if he hid something, a mark perhaps, underneath it. "I'm sure you can guess from there."

Nero's tapping slowed until his fingers were simply resting on the wood; Vee could practically see the gears grinding in his head. "So what's their next move, Signum?" she asked with a smirk, using his last name mostly to goad him. He acknowledged the barb by flicking his finger, causing the newspaper on the table to attack her face, encircling her head with paper. She pulled it off with and said in a sing-song voice, "Childish."

He didn't reply, so she leaned back into her chair and made herself comfortable, fingers tapping along her thigh clad in form-fitting brown jeans. She could already guess what would happen without the master strategist's help: the Order of Kyurem would blame the Order of Arceus and, after arguing their innocence, the Speaker of Arceus would order His troops to fight, leading to general destruction and havoc.

Her fingers stilled on her leg and she instead crossed her arms over her loose, cream-colored shirt, a scowl on her face. "Damn Orders, always fighting each other," she muttered, knowing Nero would understand her point. "You'd think decades – centuries, even – of the Flame Riders intervening would teach them something."

Nero's eyes narrowed, and despite his normal, reserved composure he said in a voice, smooth and flowing as the wind, "No one here at the Order of Rayquaza knows we're in its ranks, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Vee raised an eyebrow at that, seeing as the eighteen year-old was always quiet and kept to himself. Perhaps his ego – _excuse me, his _pride – had gotten the better of him. "I'm _so_ sorry, Nero," she told him with a smirk. "Please excuse me while I remind you that it's midnight and there's _no one here_ besides _us _at the moment_._"

Nero gave her that one-eyed glare of his that said _You don't know that, idiot_ and did not speak again, though a slight quirk of his lips indicated he did enjoy her dialogue. Vee didn't bother to talk to him again, instead taking a section of the newspaper and sliding it over to her fellow Rider. He picked it up with the barest of nods. A headline, hidden under the previous section, caught her eye:

_Priests and Priestesses of Dialga Called In: Tampering of Time Ordered by Speaker of Arceus Suspected_

The Speaker of Arceus, that shitty Pachirisu, had asked his priests and priestesses to slow time _again_? Vee frowned, leaning forward on the table and resting her chin on her folded arms as she skimmed the article. It confirmed her thoughts: many around the region were worried the many times the Speaker had ordered time to slow would affect Sinnoh in ways no one knew. Her frown deepened as she read further; one priestess had fainted from the sheer exhaustion of the incantations required for slowing time and another priestess was near death.

She growled outright at the last line: one priest had already died. Nero looked up, eyebrow raised, and she flapped a dismissive hand. He shrugged at her and returned his attention to his section of the paper.

_Whatever that stupid Niko is doing, he better finish it up quickly_, she thought with disgust, turning the page. Nothing else was of vital importance, so she slid the rest of the paper over to Nero and stood up, stretching her muscular arms above her head. Her legs slid to a shoulder length apart mechanically, supporting the whole of her stocky body.

Nero briefly glanced up, met her eyes, and just as quickly looked back down again. If she hadn't known better she would call his obvious discomfort around females _cute_; but the last time she had done that he hadn't spoken to anyone for weeks, and even Nero not talking at all got old after awhile. Instead, she tied her long, blond curls into a ponytail, stroking the two white stripes on both sides of her hair with what was almost reverence, and asked, "You wanna spar?"

He looked up again and, seeing he could wield superior knowledge over her, said pointedly, "You are a Shedinja. _Must_ I remind you of your ability?"

She grinned at him, cracking her knuckles and floating a few inches above the ground. "Wonder Guard is fantastic, isn't it?"

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes, and he pointedly looked at the words in front of him again. She could understand what he left unspoken: _but in return, you have little to no fighting endurance_.

"C'mon, grumpy," she said with a coaxing tone, a winning smile on her face. "You know how to use Night Slash. All you need to do is land a hit on me _once_ – "

" – so we can all jump for joy while carrying your unconscious body to a bed," a light voice said from the doorway. Both Nero and Vee turned their heads as another person stepped in, a small smile on his face and his wings tucked protectively behind him.

"Hey, Xander," Vee greeted, a slight undertone of relief in her voice. She wouldn't hear the end of it if it had been a stranger and Nero had been right, again, about them not being the only ones here. She scrutinized the Swellow, eyes flicking from his heavy-duty blue jeans to his well-worn black jacket. "How's the molting going?"

He snorted and graced her jab with a "Very funny" before sliding into where she had been previously sitting. He wasn't as quite as tall as Nero at 5'10'', but even so the chair seemed pitifully small as he lounged in it, throwing his arm over the back.

"No, seriously," Vee said after a moment, clasping her hands in front of her and bouncing from heel to toe. "It's getting warmer, right? So shouldn't you be losing some feathers?" He turned around to look at her and she shrugged at the yellow glare. "I've found Taillow feathers around the Temple of Rayquaza as of late."

"Asking me if I'm molting is like asking a Gallade if he's shedding the blades on his arms," Xander shot back, turning his muscular body so he was facing forward again. Still, she had seen the traces of a smile on his face; it was obvious he'd been joking.

Nero, without looking up from the paper, said quietly, poison lacing his words, "Leave me out of this."

Vee sighed as Xander self-consciously reached back and smoothed his long blue hair, keeping his palm on the center red streak. The Swellow had always been a joker around friends, but Nero… Nero had always kept himself at a distance, despite Xander's best efforts. It had taken Vee years to get to the point where she could actually talk to him and get him to respond. In any case, the three lapsed into an awkward silence.

"We supposed to be doing anything besides lazing about?" she asked the room at last, a small frown on her face.

"Not sure," Xander replied, pulling off his gloves and, instead of just throwing the gloves on the table like most would, laid them out neatly in front of him. It was a sort of OCD quirk of his, and Vee watched, bored, as he proceeded to pick at his talon-like nails, adding, "I think our Speaker is out back, training."

"Training, training, training," Vee sang, flipping herself in the air until she was floating on her back, blond curls fighting the ponytail they'd been forced into as gravity pulled them down. She smiled at the brown ceiling, shadows dancing across it in the candlelight, as she folded her arms behind her head and said, "I love fighting, don't you?"

"No," both Xander and Nero said at the same time, each with the same tone of disgust and slight condescension. They gave each other unreadable looks before Nero looked down again and Xander was picking at his nails once more.

She shook her head. "I just don't understand you guys. Actually, I don't really understand anyone nowadays. Fighting is fun!" She spread her arms wide, which made a strange image as she was floating horizontally at the moment. "It's actually exhilarating."

"For you," Xander muttered, proceeding to scrape at the nails on his opposite hand while turning to face her in the chair. "Fighting's only fun if there's a good reason why you're doing it."

Vee pouted and flipped herself again so she was upside-down in the air. "See, that's what I don't get," she said, tightening her ponytail before it fell out. "Fighting is always fun, even more so when it's just a friendly spar… you know?" When she received no response despite her expectant silence she shook her head. "Like I said, I don't understand anyone nowadays." She thought about it an added as an afterthought, "Especially that Pachirisu over at the Order of Arceus – "

She flinched in midair when Xander slammed a beefy fist on the table. Even with his back to her she knew he was scowling and his yellow eyes were flashing. Instead of backtracking, though, she snarled, "Oh, stop being so sensitive. You're Alexander Caleb Vegas, part of the Flame Riders, and the one who dealt the final blow to that bitchy Speaker of Kyurem yesterday. Do the words 'Order of Arceus' really bother you _that much?_"

Xander stood up and picked up his gloves, turning to face her as he slid them over his fingers. His eyes were as hard as steel, and he advanced on her as he growled, "How could you possibly know what it feels like?"

Vee spun herself so she was standing on the ground and crossed her arms in an 'X' across her chest, daring him to come closer lest she unleash an X-Scissor attack. "How could I know what it feels like?" she snapped back, pulling her lips back in a snarl – a habit she had picked up from a fellow Rider. "That's because I _know_ what it feels like, asshole. My family's dead too, in case you've bloody _forgotten_."

He glared at her and spat, "Yours didn't burn to death before your very eyes – "

"Does it matter?" she interrupted, eyes narrowed. "Mine were killed in a skirmish with the Order of Arceus too. But do I let it bother me?" She plowed over his next words and snapped, "I can't go moping around when there are kids like me who've lost everything. We have to help them, you stupid Swellow; can't you see?"

The words had the desired effect: the bird Pokemon across from her relaxed some and the tension in the air eased. But he still shot back, "But you weren't there when you saw them die – "

"Could you quiet _down_? I'm trying to read."

Nero's cold voice washed over them, stilling them and reminding them they weren't alone; exactly at the right moment, too, as the Swellow probably would've attacked her had the argument continued to escalate. With an effort, Xander's wings, which had been outstretched with tension, slowly relaxed until he could wrap them around himself like a cloak. He then stalked out of the room, and Vee watched him go, green eyes flashing.

"Thanks, Nero," Vee said after a moment, clasping her hands in front of her and twitching her fingers. He grunted in response, but she could see the concern in his single visible eye, and he had a reassuring look on his face - as reassuring as Nero could be, which mostly meant a knitted eyebrow. But hey, he was trying.

A few minutes passed in silence, in which Vee flipped herself lazily in the air. Then the two heard footsteps, accompanied with Xander's voice complaining loudly, "Rein, I literally just had a dramatic exit. If you bring me back you're going to ruin it – "

"Shut up, you can manage," a playful female voice said in return, and the Speaker of Rayquaza herself burst into the room.

Immediately Vee straightened and bowed deeply to her, murmuring, "Speaker."

"Oh, don't be so formal, Vee," Rein said with a sunny smile, red eyes bright. She released the hold she had had on Xander's arm and flicked off a stray blue feather on her bare shoulder.

Vee then glared at Xander and said accusingly, "See, I _knew_ you were molting. You could have just told me, you know."

The Swellow grinned, showing teeth, and responded snidely, "But that wouldn't have been any fun."

Rein waved a hand for silence, which she got immediately, having two members out of three who served Rayquaza as their deity. Nero gave it to her out of respect even though he was a Servant of Arceus, the Sinnoh equivalent. "Listen," she said, propping one small, gloved hand on her hip. The other rested on the thigh of her black shorts, thumb hooked in the pocket. "You know those fuckers from the Order of Kyurem?"

Rein was known for her crude mouth, so it came as no surprise to the other three that she had sworn. Vee and Nero nodded while Xander said, "Yeah, so?"

"Well, ever since we killed their Speaker, the bitches have been making a huge fucking deal of the whole thing. They've gone and declared fucking _war_ on the Order of Arceus." Her red eyes flashed, temporarily matching the shade of her short-cut tank top, as she added tersely, "And I'm sure you all know what that fucking means."

In response Vee let out a frustrated growl while both males looked grave. "I thought so," Rein said with a sharp nod, her long, silky black hair flopping with the motion.

"Can't they just sign a treaty or something?" Vee asked, exasperated, even though she already knew the answer. She didn't even wait for someone to reply and instead asked, "The stupid Pachirisu just went along with it without a fight?" Then, as an afterthought: "I at least expected him to protest."

"He had no choice," Nero replied absently, eyes down, fingers clasped loosely in front of him on the table. The paper lay abandoned next to his hands, and it was evident he was thinking about how to turn the situation to their advantage, even as he added, "It's either fight or die."

"Well, I _know_ that, but Niko loves peace," Vee said uneasily. Then she added, trailing off at the end, "It's not like he's weak, either, plus he probably did all sorts of planning ahead…"

There was a few seconds of silence; then Vee realized with a curse, "Dammit! He was slowing time, trying to think of a plan, but he couldn't think of one. That's the problem, that's why he – " She folded her legs underneath her, floating in the air once more, as she fell silent. No one spoke for a while, processing this new knowledge for a few moments.

"But it's strange," Xander pointed out after, crossing lightly tanned arms over his gray undershirt. "The Speaker of Victini, I mean. Why would she declare war? She seems like a sensible person."

Rein's mouth tightened into a thin line. "I don't believe she even had a choice. As sub-leader, she had to take command when the Speaker of Kyurem died of unexpected causes or some related shit." Her hands rose to her head and her fingers rubbed gently against her temples. "And I imagine she had to listen to the fuckers of all the other branches in her Order and then go along with the main consensus."

Vee frowned at the thought – the Speaker of Victini's name was not known, though most called her Oriole, and she was known as a smart Furret with a cool head on her shoulders. She would never have gone along willingly with war; no doubt Rein was right. She must have been forced into it and had no choice but to proceed until Kyurem chose His new Speaker.

"What do we do?" she asked Rein, seeing as Nero was still deep in thought and not providing guidance as he usually would.

The Mightyena bared her teeth in a snarl, the sharp fangs giving her an intimidating look. Her scarlet eyes gleamed with something unreadable as she said, "We meet up with the others."

Xander groaned. "You mean we have to go all the way to Hearthome City? But it's so far!"

"You can fly," Rein said flatly.

"And Rhy is there," Vee pointed out, and the Mightyena nodded at the mention of their leader. "We have to see what he says before we do anything, even if – " here the blonde shot Nero a pointed look, though he remained impassive and unresponsive – "our master tactician as an idea of how to go forward."

"And once we meet up with the others," Rein said with a grin this time, "We do what the Flame Riders do best."

All three nodded and said as one, even Nero:

"We intervene."

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Zila would have fallen asleep long ago were it not for her footsteps crunching on the forest floor - this she was fairly sure of. So she kept pacing, watching her black combat boots with the navy laces she had insisted upon appear and disappear from her vision.

She still couldn't believe what had gone on in the past few days. The Speaker of Kyurem had been murdered almost a week earlier – though whispers in the streets say she was assassinated rather than murdered, by the Flame Riders of all people. Yue knew better, of course; the Flame Riders didn't exist – and shortly after the Speaker of Victini, a talented Furret with smarts to match, had temporarily taken control. But then she had been forced to declare war, which in itself was ridiculous as the Order of Kyurem had no proof the Order of Arceus had any association with the whole thing.

But politics were politics, and Yue was not about to involve herself. Her job was hard enough as it was, especially with a charge as irritating as this particular Warrior of Genesect. Her assignment of guarding the test subject, which she had been assured would only last a few hours at most, had spanned exactly two months and three days. Yue didn't quite dare complain, though; she would rather not tarnish her perfect record as the top Assassin of Meloetta for her Order.

Though in all honesty, the whole mission hadn't actually been terrible. Zila was different from his fellow Warriors, as all projects from Genesect's branch in the order had been deemed failures – except for him. And strangely enough, out of all those experiments only Zila was capable of analytic thought and reason, and his mental capabilities were well beyond the bounds of an ordinary Pokemon. The other Warriors were ruthless killing machines and kept under lock and key; Zila's friendly, human-like behavior allowed him, however, to wander, and it was her duty to watch and kill him if he ever went on a murder spree or something.

But so far, Zila had ended up being quite the interesting companion; he was one of the only people who could get her to talk more than a few words at a time. In fact, he had her talking in full sentences, even holding a conversation with her with relative ease. She still had yet to figure out what made her relax so much around him, or at least understanding why she had no problem talking to him but couldn't find the effort to make chitchat with her fellow Assassins.

In any case, when he talked to her, he was cheerful and always tried to get her into an argument by provoking her. Deep down, she could clearly see that he was lonely, afraid and cut-off from the rest of the world. Yue was fairly sure she was the only one who knew the test subject's true feelings, and she was intent on keeping it that way. And while she missed the action on the field and tolerated the teasing of other Assassins for 'babysitting', she found she didn't mind too much. Where Zila went, she followed; and more often than not, the places he went were interesting and full of mysteries.

Such as the forest, for example. She shivered and pulled her slightly-too-large navy-blue sweater more tightly around her. She had never gone out to explore the forest near the Temple of Kyurem before, thinking them boring and generic. But through Zila's cheerful observations and remarks, she had discovered the place had a life of its own. Her charge enjoyed watching the life int he forest with almost obsessive fascination, probably due to the fact most of his seventeen years were spent contained to a lab; thus the outdoors was endlessly interesting to him.

"Stop pacing for a moment."

At the sound of his light voice her steps slowed for a fraction of a second; then, moments later, she was walking again, long, black hair flowing behind her, the red and orange tips flickering like flames as she did so. "I think not," she said without moving her red-orange eyes to him. "You'll fall asleep if I do."

"No, seriously. Just stop for a moment. Personal favor?"

She could detect the undertone of urgency in his voice and slowed her steps until she was standing still next to his sitting figure. Probably one of the things about him that perplexed her the most was his insistence to wear a sleeveless black cloak at all times with the hood drawn; even more so, the cloak was obviously an illusion, leaving Yue to wonder what exactly he looked like underneath (and also why he kept his arms free rather than having an actual cloak). "Can you hear it?"

_Hear what?_ She pricked her ears for a few moments, silent and still: _nothing but the wind_. She shook her head and said, "No."

Yue could hear the amusement in his voice. "For an Arcanine, you're surprisingly deaf." He stood up with a smooth, fluid motion, rising only a small bit over her 5'8''. "Listen harder."

His arms had tensed up, the muscles bunching powerfully under the skin covered in a fine layer of white hairs; she noticed this in an absent sort of way as she closed her eyes, held her breath and listened to the breezes. Almost immediately she heard what he was talking about: footsteps. Strange that she'd missed it before. "So?" she asked, opening her eyes and looking at him.

He shook his head. "You wouldn't know, I guess. I keep thinking you know the things I do." He began walking briskly, far more quickly than his normal pace, and she jogged a bit to keep up. "Do you know my test subject number?"

"Forty-two," she answered promptly. Then: "Why?"

"Well, let's just say there were forty-one before and many after yours truly." He looked over to her and she could just see his eyes, the irises yellow and the pupils scarlet. "You get what I'm saying?"

She did, almost immediately. "Those footsteps belong to a fellow test subject." Then she frowned and asked him, confused, "Shouldn't they be locked up?"

"This one escapes all the time, but usually doesn't do anything." His pace quickened and Yue quickly understood why; the footsteps, though they hadn't increased in tempo, had somehow gotten closer. "It's a shame he came here while I was out."

He was hiding something from her; she could practically feel the fear radiating off of him. "How can you tell who it is?" she asked, interested. "From what I understand, you're not an ordinary Pokemon, but I mean, not everyone has sharper hearing than an Arcanine."

He barked out a laugh; the term was fairly accurate, as the laugh did indeed sound more like a bark than a laugh. "'From what I understand,' she says. Of course I'm not ordinary; I'm from the branch of Genesect. I'm an _experiment_." He spat out the last word, disgust apparent.

But she merely narrowed her eyes; he was evading the question. "Just what kind of Pokemon are you?" she persisted, and kept pace with him as he sped up, so much so they were now going at a fast jog. Still the footsteps echoed behind them.

"If I tell you, will you shut up and run faster?" Her eyebrows went up. It was rare of Zila to ever insult her or order her around, for far more frequently he was simply talking to himself or asking her something along the lines of 'isn't this thing pretty?'

Still, she did not hesitate and agreed, "Yes."

"I'm a Zoroark. Now run!" Without a pause he burst into a sprint and, startled, she could barely keep up with his long strides.

"But I thought Zoroarks were only found in Unova!" she managed to get out, quickly taking the lead and making a beeline for the temple. "If you're an experiment, does this mean you came from over there?"

He was silent for such a long time she was sure he had forgotten the question, in which the footsteps were still clearly audible and, amazing enough, getting closer. "It's a long story," he said at last. "And you can stop running. He's already caught up."

It took her a moment to process this and another few seconds to skid to a halt. When she finally turned around to jog back, Zila was facing off against what looked to be a young boy with ghostly blue eyes.

She came up behind him and peered over his shoulder. The boy was silent, with scraggly, blond hair and delicate, elfin facial features. "_He's_ the one you're so afraid of?" she asked incredulously, keeping her voice at a whisper.

"I'm not afraid for me" was the response. She barely caught the last part: "I'm afraid for you."

"What do you – "

The little boy's eyes glowed violet and a light streaked out toward them. Zila stepped in front of her and it appeared that the light simply faded when it hit him. "He's a Kadabra," Zila explained in a rush. "His psychic powers are far beyond the norm due to experimentation. Since I'm a Dark-type I'm immune to them, but if one of his attack hits you then I can't guarantee you'll be sane by the time you recover."

That made more sense. Yue looked over the Zoroark's shoulder with a newfound respect for the young boy. "He's so young," she said in a whisper, half-disgusted, half-awed.

"He was grown in a test tube" was Zila's reply. Yue's eyes widened but the Zoroark spoke again before she could get a word out. "Look, I think we're gonna have to kill him to get out of this alive. You okay with that?"

"You're forgetting you're talking to the top Assassin, Zila," Yue said, bristling. Then she sighed. "But since I can't step out from behind you without apparently losing all mental capabilities, I have no idea what to do." Yue found her mind was able to coolly process her situation despite the fact she would be murdering a young boy in cold blood.

"You have long-range attacks?" She watched, fascinated, as a blob of darkness built up between his claw-like fingers and he threw it at the boy. The Kadabra, though, neatly dodged with a smooth shift to the left, and the darkness dissolved into shadows.

"Yes, of course."

"Try and distract him with them. I need to land a solid Shadow Ball on him." _That was the move he used earlier._

Yue wondered if she could even manage to launch a Flamethrower attack without hitting her human shield in front of her. Then again, she wasn't trying to aim at the boy, just trying to distract him. She breathed in deeply and exhaled, imagining herself as a bellows fanning the flames inside her, and whispered, "Can't we just run?"

His voice was almost gentle, as if he was trying to reassure her as well as himself. "'Fraid not. Start distracting him."

She breathed out, a long exhale that did not go unnoticed. Finally, she nodded and murmured. "You're the boss."

_Just this once, anyway_...

She breathed in and out softly, waiting for the warm feeling to come into her mouth. Once it had, she breathed out again and a small stream of flames came out.

Then, with reckless abandon, she breathed in and blew out toward the Kadabra. The Flamethrower that followed would have been a direct hit had the Kadabra not dodged to the side. She launched another attack right after the first so he would have to teleport to dodge; once he had Zila wasted no time in nailing him with a Shadow Ball attack.

"That was fairly easy," she whispered, making sure not to exhale so much so flames came out. Instead, she breathed out acrid smoke.

"He's not dead, master Assassin," Zila replied, and she could practically hear the grin on his face. He was laughing at her, per usual. "Keep that firebreath of yours ready."

She bit back a retort and therefore prevented herself from severely burning the Zoroark in front of her. Indeed, just as he'd said, the young boy slowly got to his feet, pale eyes empty and soulless before glowing violet once more.

_A Psychic attack_, Yue realized with a jolt. It would be practically impossible to dodge even with Zila in front of her acting as a buffer. With renewed vigor she inhaled once more, held her hair back with on hand, and practically spat out the flames straight at the attack. It had half the desired result, as some of the energy dissipated, but most continued straight at her.

"Behind me," Zila ordered and she shrunk behind him and therefore missed what he did next. The next thing she knew she had popped her head back up and – nothing.

"What did you do?" she asked in a whisper, curious.

The response was terse, and it was obvious he was focusing entirely on the Kadabra in front of them. "Extrasensory. Managed to divert the energy upwards. Focus."

_Well, that's settled_, she thought, taking another breath, coughing out a few pathetic flames, and then breathing fire back at the Kadabra in yet another Flamethrower attack. She wasn't sure how many of them she could manage, but she hoped it would last long enough for them to knock this boy out.

Wait, no; they had to kill him. She licked her lips nervously. He was so young, she had never killed a child either; wasn't there another way?

_No hesitation_, she remembered her teacher telling her, and she steeled her nerves. They had to kill him. Fine. She could manage, at least until it was over; then she could maybe give the body a proper burial, since no boy that age deserved to live a life like this one was –

"Focus, Yue," Zila repeated in a hiss, and she snapped her attention to him when he added, "I have an idea."

"Do tell," she replied, and flames came dangerously close to his shoulder. She covered her mouth as Zila gave her a look that said _watch it_ and said more quietly, "Actually, let me guess. Illusions?"

He chuckled and murmured, "Spot-on as always. I'll make an illusion of us fighting over there; then I'll go up and use Faint Attack at short range."

She raised an eyebrow as another Psybeam attack dissipated against him. "And you'll do that while maintaining the illusions?"

There was a brief pause, in which they moved as one, him ahead of her, to avoid what appeared to be an Energy Ball. "Good point," he said with rueful grin. "You go in and Bite him or something while he's busy."

"Even better, Crunch him. Got it."

"You sure? I mean, there's a good chance that you'll die."

"There's also a good chance that we'll both die if he's as powerful as you're making him out to be. Do it."

In their discussion they had failed to notice that the Kadabra had adjusted its aim to hit Yue, whose head was just peeking up over Zila's shoulder. The Psybeam was a glancing blow, as Zila deflected it at the last moment; but it took a few moments for Yue to gather her wits afterwards.

"I told you he was strong," Zila told her, amused, as Yue rubbed her forehead with pale fingers.

She nodded breathlessly, her fire extinguished by the attack. "Point taken. Hurry up and do whatever."

He did exactly that, slowly backing away with her behind him and leaving an illusion of them behind. Then they darted behind a tree and, with a nod from Zila, Yue circled around the Kadabra.

The illusions were fantastic; the Zoroark had gotten everything down to the last strand of hair on her head, with each moving as they would had she been actually fighting. Yue gave both cheeks a slap to concentrate - this was no time to look at pretty pictures like some sort of three year old - and exhaled quickly, then stole forward with Extreme Speed.

The Kadabra didn't stand a chance. By the time he had turned she had opened her jaws and bitten down in a vicious Crunch attack. Instincts took over as she grabbed the smaller body with her hands and pulled; blood filled her mouth as skin tore. The boy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, and suddenly Zila was there with a fist cloaked in darkness, punching down against the head and, much to Yue's muted horror, splattering blood everywhere.

Never in her life had she been so disturbed by red coating her skin. It was far from the first time she had killed, but this – this was different. Zila had punched the boy's head so powerfully the skull had caved in and bits of the bone, she would guess, had gotten into his bloodstream while the brain itself had been damaged. She was used to silent, clean deaths, quick and efficient. Plus, the boy's eyes were wide open, with blood staining the white pink. She resisted the urge to throw up.

Nevertheless she choked on a breath when Zila then leaned down and casually tore his claws through the boy's throat, effectively ending any life the boy had left. Blood coated Zila's fingers as he straightened.

"I never did like him anyway," Zila murmured, mostly to himself. He didn't sound perturbed at all "Fifty-one was always so mysterious."

She gazed at him for a very long moment; then, with a shake, she pulled herself together and wiped her hands against her black shorts, laboriously dragging her fingers against the cloth until they reached the hem at her knees. "We're going to get into trouble for this," she said and felt a twinge; her perfect record was now tarnished. Then she blinked, wondering why she cared about such a petty thing when she had just murdered a young boy.

As if reading her mind Zila said, "He wasn't human, Yue. Don't mourn his passing. Death is much better than the hell he was living just now."

She swallowed and nodded, dashing at the tears springing up in her eyes. "We should go," she said instead. "We can't go back with this – crime we've committed, I don't think."

"It's not a crime," Zila said steadily, but something in his voice told her that he had said it as if - as if to assure not only her, but also himself it was so. "But you're right, we should go. We'd definitely get in trouble. Or at least, I'd get killed, you'd be demoted, whatever."

He looked down at the body and bent down. Then, gently, almost as if he were handling a baby, he eased the body into his arms and stood. His hood fell back as he did so, apparently on purpose given it was a mere illusion, and for the first time since she had seen him two months and three days ago, Yue finally saw his face.

His eyes, as she had known, were yellow with red pupils. But his hair was short and white, the tips blue, nearly the opposite coloring of what a Zoroark should look like. His nose was more muzzle-like in shape than normal, and most of his face was covered in that sheen of white fur like his arm. Yue didn't spend too much looking.

"There's a river nearby," she said quietly. Zila nodded; he had known that, of course, because he'd shown her where it was. "We should go there."

He nodded again and looked down at the pitiful creature in his arms, his expression gentle. "After you," he said softly, and Yue knew somewhere, deep down, that killing the little boy had bothered him more than she could ever know.

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**If you are confused by anything or I messed up anything with your OC, PM me. Onto credits:**

Vee**, as some remember, is mine.**

Nero **the Gallade belongs to **BladeOfTheEclipse**. **

Xander** the Swellow comes from **AtmosBreak**.**

Rein** the Mightyena is the creation of **Silverdragon98**.**

Yue** is the Arcanine from **xiLovePandas**. Sorry, but I changed her personality a bit to be more, uh, loud. I hope you don't mind :S But she kinda needs to talk a lot more in the next few chapters in order to balance everything out.**

**Finally, **Zila** the test subject Zoroark comes from the realm of **TheGlaceonFanatic**.**

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_**I will now be accepting OCs throughout this entire story. The form is on my profile. Just remember, send them by PM only, or they won't be taken!**_


	3. 2 - Game Start

**Chapter 2, or Game Start.**

**Edit 1/19/13: read-through, mostly, some edits here and there.**

**Edit 4-14-13: MOAR EDITING, YO.**

**I do not own Pokemon.**

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_**I will be accepting OCs for the entirety of the story. If you wish to submit the form in on my profile; send them in by PM only! There is a maximum limit of two, but please only send one at a time until I give you the go-ahead.**_

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It was due to her training and experience that she was so silent. At least, that was what Zila told himself, for as much as he hated to admit it, she was better at hiding in the shadows than he. In all aspects that was wrong, for the darkness was where he belonged. Wasn't it? He was a Zoroark, after all. A mutated Zoroark, to be sure, but the scientists had been certain he was as close as they could get in comparison to a normal one. At least, that's what they told him... and they _had_ gotten his chemical makeup mostly right, hadn't they?

_No. Of course they hadn't. Who am I kidding?_ The sheen of white fur all over his body proved that, his oddly colored eyes proved that, his ability to form ice from thin air proved that. He wasn't a Zoroark at home in the darkness: he was a Zoroark with no home at all.

He was grown in a test tube. He didn't know who his parents – donors, actually, the word vile on his tongue – were. He had been living a caged existence all his life. The only reason they had let him live was because he had been a 'successful' experiment – one of the few successes out of how many? He couldn't even remember; the numbers had escalated to impossible heights as of late…

He was an outcast. A mutant, a freak of nature. Arceus, sometimes even _he_ hated himself. Not even sometimes, actually; it was hard to find _anything_ redeeming about him.

"Zila?"

And Yue. He didn't understand her. Why did she stay with him? All the Assassins that had been assigned to 'watch' him had always left within a day, normally citing something along the lines of "He was being conceited and snotty". But she had stayed by his side, unwavering, being – dare he say it – pleasant company for the most part for two months and nearly four days now.

She only ever conversed with him and only him; that hadn't escaped his notice. She preferred to stay in the background usually, always letting her fellow Assassins talk over her before she contradicted all of them with one well-chosen word or two. But with him – he talked, she replied, and so they would go back and forth in an actual conversation. She never got frustrated when he tried to argue with her, and he never stayed silent when she asked a question.

It was – it was like – no, he knew what it was. This was the only time he ever got attention from another being; somehow he felt the need to wield superior power over her with his mysterious past and form of mutated Zoroark. She was curious and that made her vulnerable, and never had Zila had someone to exploit. But he could never exploit her, that was quite obvious, so instead, he humored her. He answered her questions truthfully unlike his days back in the lab those years ago. Then, he had always lied and given the scientists what they wanted to hear, but only for his own benefit, so he didn't get punished...

Was it foolish to be friends with someone like her? Perhaps it was. But it was better than going through life with only loneliness to keep him company.

"Zila, are you listening to me?" Ah, in his thoughts he had forgotten to reply to her.

"Yeah, sorry, what?" he asked, his voice automatically light and cheerful. That was just one thing on a whole list of them that he hated that about himself: always, no matter the situation, he hid his true self behind a masquerade of friendliness. Why couldn't he just act like he felt like would be 'normal' for him?

Yue looked uneasy, red-orange eyes flicking from side-to-side, a small, tight frown on her face. "There's someone following us."

Zila blinked once, surprised. He would have heard anyone approach, and in addition, they had covered their tracks well, looping back and forth and leaving false scent trails; it was doubtful someone would follow them. Still, since this was Yue he was dealing with, he pricked his ears and carefully listened for any sound.

"I can't – " he began, until he heard a distinct noise, one of fabric snapping once in the wind, though it was silenced immediately. He automatically shifted into a defensive position; the noise had been far too close for him to be comfortable with. Yue had heard it as well, but instead of looking worried her frown deepened into a scowl.

"Of all people to choose," she muttered under her breath, just barely loud enough for him to hear, "They just _had_ to send him." She took a few nimble steps closer to him and said quietly, "He is an Accelgor, so be wary of his Bug-type attacks."

_Bugs_. Zila shuddered. He _really_ didn't like bugs. Yue noticed the slight movement but, instead of being apologetic, she rolled her eyes and proceeded to smirk at him. "I can't believe you of all people - bugs, really? That is probably one of the stupidest things I have ever learned in my life."

"Shut up," he grumbled – and then was violently thrown to the side by what appeared to have been a Focus Blast right next to his feet. He landed hard on the ground, dazed and more than a little confused, blinking rapidly to clear the stars in his eyes.

It took him a moment to gather his wits, and even as he slowly climbed to his feet, his ears were ringing and his head pounded. Yue was shouting something that he couldn't quite make out, and she attempted to intercept a dark blue blur that was coming straight for him.

Abruptly his mind cleared, and he did a quick little two-step in order to dodge said blue blur. The thing stopped, turned – Zila couldn't make out the facial features, as the bottom of the face was covered in what appeared to be pink bandages and framed by pink hair. The entirety of the upper face was shadowed by more of the pink hair, though he could just make out a cross-shaped scar on the forehead.

Yue was shouting again, and this time, he could make it out. "Arceus dammit, Hikaru, would you stop and _listen to me_?!"

The person across from him – well, the Accelgor, actually, wearing what appeared to be a ridiculously long scarf made of a single bandage – brought both hands together, and Zila watched, wary, as a ball of light slowly formed between the palms. Then, with blinding speed, the Accelgor darted forward, doing some sort of spin in order to move past him while simultaneously launching the Focus Blast attack right at him.

Zila found things moved in slow motion, his mind coolly calculating where to go and what to do. The attack would be impossible to dodge at the speed the Accelgor was going, but at the very least he could deflect it. _It wouldn't be too difficult to destroy it, actually_, he mused as the Bug-type came closer, slapping his palms together. He could just hear Yue inhale sharply when he brought his hands apart again; ice had formed between his palms, and with renewed vigor he lobbed at the Accelgor while sliding smoothly to the side.

A searing pain hit his side as the ball of light grazed him, a few drops of blood splattering out. Zila hissed in pain, pressing one arm to his side and whirling back to face his attacker. The Pokemon's cloak (curiously made of the same dark blue bandages as the scarf) whipped his chest as his opponent blew past him and, as if to mock him, the Pokemon had managed to dodge the ice completely. Zila was left to watch as the Focus Blast dissipated from his opponent's hand.

He gave Zila a slight nod, _not bad_, before ducking and rolling, dark-blue cloak flaring up behind him, as Yue charged forward with Flame Blitz. She missed but, oddly enough, the Accelgor hesitated and did not strike her as she went by. Zila furrowed his brow; he had guessed Yue had some sort of relationship with this person when she had yelled earlier, and now his suspicions were confirmed. For one reason or another, the Accelgor was not willing to attack her.

Yue dug her heel into the ground and spun around to face the foe with a practiced movement, eyes narrowed. "Hikaru," she said steadily, taking a step forward. The ninja-like boy – _Hikaru_, Zila thought, the name strangely familiar on his tongue – consequently took a step back. "Stop attacking him."

Zila could just make out Hikaru's eyes. They were green, distant and cold, and they narrowed at her words. Instead of attacking her, he instead darted forward and with what appeared to be the butt of a knife (which Zila had not even seen him grab) reached out, and brought the hilt down smartly on her temple. She eyes rolled up to her head and she folded neatly, unconscious, but Hikaru caught her and, so quickly Zila wondered if he'd imagined it, placed her in a sitting position against a tree a safe distance away.

Then those cold green eyes turned to him, burning with – anticipation, perhaps, he wasn't sure – and the Accelgor surged forward, each foot stepping lightly despite black hiking boots, arms braced in preparation for another Focus Blast. The Zoroark slid one foot back to brace himself and, as soon as Hikaru came close, dodged neatly to the side and attempted a Sucker Punch.

Zila growled in irritation when Hikaru managed to dodge his attack, again; as far as he knew, this Pokemon was definitely the first of many to ever do so. His side burned briefly as he ducked to avoid a lightning-fast punch made by his opponent and he leapt backward, circling his foe. Hikaru's face was devoid of expression and he merely straightened, staring straight at Zila with narrowed eyes.

_What _is_ this guy?_ Zila wondered, all focus on his foe and feeling a slight sense of irritation, his feet pressing lightly on the ground. _His speed is bordering on impossibly fast, and his attacks are strong, too_. He didn't seem like an experiment like himself, for Zila had never seen him around before; after a moment Zila decided that the Accelgor must train himself for hours every day, seeing as his strength and speed did not come from genetic modifications. In addition, Yue had known and recognized him, which meant he was involved in the Order of Kyurem somehow.

And then, the lightning bolt realization: _of course, he's one of her fellow Assassins!_ He was faintly amused that he hadn't thought of that sooner. _He must be one of the best ones they have._

And then he remembered why the name 'Hikaru' had been familiar at all: he was a known bounty hunter who went by the name of 'Shinobi', and he often caught some of the cleverest criminals in the entire region. Zila ground his teeth in frustration. It was no wonder he was so outdone by the Accelgor; not only was he experienced, but he was fast and strong because of it. At this rate, he didn't stand much of a chance.

Hikaru evidently decided Zila had had enough time to think, as his hands came together again. Zila stopped circling and braced himself for yet another Focus Blast attack; but instead, a soft green light came from the Accelgor's palms. _Energy Ball_, he realized immediately, recognizing the attack as one of Test Subject 51's – and the mere thought of the young boy knotted his stomach.

Throwing those thoughts aside, he focused and prepared to counter with Shadow Ball, firing it at the bluish green energy as soon as Hikaru had released it at him. The two attacks met in a muted explosion, sending both parties flying. Zila landed on the ground with both legs braced while Hikaru neatly flipped backward and landed lightly on his toes. As the dust cleared, a rustling grabbed his attention: Yue, having had leaves and whatnot blown onto her, was stirring and was muttering something darkly under her breath, eyes opening to slits.

Hikaru made use of his distraction and was suddenly right next to him, scraping Zila's arm with the same knife he had seen the Accelgor knock Yue out with. Blood leaked out of the long, shallow cut, and Zila lashed out with a snarl. His fist connected briefly with Hikaru's shoulder, to which the Pokemon followed the movement and made Zila unbalanced; then the ninja had danced out of range, flicking the knife once to rid it of blood before it disappeared up his sleeve with a movement so smooth and swift the Zoroark almost missed it.

_If I ever get the chance, I should ask him how he does that_, Zila mused absently. The thought made him grin, and Hikaru shifted upon seeing the expression, thinking the Zoroark was planning something.

"Is it hard to move in that cape-thing of yours?" Zila asked, tone light despite the pain in his body. He winced when he tentatively figured the cut on his upper arm, and added, "And that scarf gave you away before."

As he expected, he was met with silence; Hikaru didn't even look the least bit unnerved, instead bending his knees slightly and, unsurprisingly, streaking toward him with an extreme burst of speed, so fast Zila could only see a blur.

This time, though, he was prepared. He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.

Without hesitation he formed a small-scaled Shadow Ball and threw it on the ground. Leaves, grit and dust flew into the air and the impact Zila half-expected from Hikaru didn't come; instead, it appeared the Accelgor had stopped, temporarily blinded. Zila took the opportunity to bring his palms together and quickly began to feel the ice building up between his hands.

Hikaru was still and unmoving, trying to sense Zila's movements through the dust and focusing all his attention on his environment. Thus he wasn't unprepared when Zila suddenly was in front of him, but he did not fully dodge as the Zoroark unleashed the Ice Beam attack. Frost coated his upper leg from where it hit, and the attack slashed a clean hole through the Accelgor's cloak.

He could tell Hikaru was surprised, given by the almost imperceptible raising of one pink eyebrow; no Zoroark could ever learn an Ice-type attack. Of course, Zila was far from the average Zoroark, but the Accelgor hadn't known that. _It would have been much easier for me if the attack had actually hit, _Zila reflected. Now the element of surprise was gone, and Hikaru would be more cautious.

Indeed, Hikaru came in for close combat once more, knowing that if he kept his distance he could very well be hit by another Ice Beam attack. Zila spun out of the way but unexpectedly a hand clamped tightly over his shoulder. Suddenly, he felt drained, and Hikaru retreated, skipping backwards in order to get out of fighting range.

_Giga Drain_, Zila realized with disgust, rolling his left shoulder to get the nerve endings in the muscle to work again. As the Zoroark had expected, the Accelgor's wound on his leg had vanished, the skin repairing itself in front of Zila's eyes thanks to the extra energy he had stolen. _How completely unfair_.

Still, the fight wasn't completely over. It appeared Yue had finally woken up and she was staring at Hikaru, red-orange eyes narrowed. Obviously she was intent on stopping her fellow Assassin, and Zila could use that to his advantage; but for the moment, the task fell solely to him. Now that he had gotten a taste of Hikaru's skill set, it wouldn't be so difficult. Probably.

Hikaru came closer once more. Zila kept his hands apart and instead formed individual ice crystals in each hand, dodging each of Hikaru's attacks and waiting for just the right moment. The ninja-like Pokemon was so good at hand-to-hand combat, though, that it was difficult to keep him from hitting pressure points (which Zila noted he was aiming for). Still, Zila kept on his toes, dodging and deflecting with his upper arms as necessary, gritting his teeth as more blood oozed from the cut on his shoulder. It had already ceased bleeding, as he had been genetically modified to heal faster, but Hikaru had reopened it with a few well-placed blows.

Finally Zila found it: an opening. With a snarl he brought both hands together and shot an Ice Beam attack right at his opponent. He was rewarded with the Accelgor faltering completely, the ice having hit dead-on in the Hikaru's chest. Even the blue sweatshirt the Bug-type wore didn't help shield him, the fabric instead freezing and shattering into pieces. Yue came out of nowhere and caught the pink-haired Pokemon when he fell forward, hand scrabbling at the frost hardening on his front.

"Neat trick," Yue told Zila, settling the Accelgor onto the ground and placing a steadying hand on his back. Her eyes were only slightly unfocused, and her hands were not shaking; Hikaru's blow to her head had not affected her in any way except to knock her out, thankfully. She moved Hikaru's fingers and placed her own on his wound, the frost melting as soon as her warmer fingertips touched his skin. "I didn't know Zoroarks could learn Ice Beam."

"None can," Zila said automatically. When Yue gave him a dry look he shrugged and said, "Well, except me."

She rolled her eyes, a surprisingly elegant movement, and looked back at Hikaru. "You know, you wouldn't be like this if you had actually listened to me the first time," she said in a joking tone. Hikaru did not reply, and she sighed.

"Who is he?" Zila asked, curious. "I mean, he's an Assassin, obviously, and his name is Hikaru, and he's a bounty hunter, but… oh. I guess I know all there is to it, then," he said with a grin when Yue then proceeded to shoot him a wry look. "Why was he attacking me?"

"One: you're an escaped experiment. Two: you killed a fellow Test Subject. And three: you have taken an Assassin hostage," Yue said as she took her hand away, the ice having melted from the other Assassin's body. Zila opened his mouth, ready to complain that she had helped kill 51 and since _when_ had he taken her hostage, but she butted in and said, "At least, that's what they probably told Hikaru."

Hikaru nodded assent, hand pressed where Zila had nailed him with an Ice Beam. "You can't kill him," Yue told him, "because he saved my life. I owe that much to him."

Zila watched, interested, as Hikaru's cold eyes widened and he looked at Yue, as if seeking confirmation. She nodded once and he let out an audible sigh through the pink bandages that covered his mouth. Then he made an attempt to stand, which he accomplished with some of Yue's help, arm slung over her shoulder, hand still pressed against his chest.

Zila found he did not like the fact Hikaru was close to Yue and found himself mildly amused at the thought of jealousy. Never had he considered he would ever be jealous. Then again, Yue was his only friend, and in one way or another, he had begun to think of himself as also her only friend. Obviously, that was delusional; he had just never really thought about it much. "Is he going to help us?" Zila asked, knowing Hikaru wouldn't reply to his query and instead directing it at Yue.

Yue looked over at Hikaru. When the pink-haired boy nodded she looked back and said, "I think so."

There was a shout from far away, and Hikaru tiredly slid his arm from Yue's shoulder and fished out what appeared to be a diary from his pocket. He flipped it open and scribbled something in it with a pen (that had appeared out of nowhere, per usual), showing it to both Zila and Yue at the same time. In slightly messy, curly handwriting, it read: _I was leading a party of Warriors of Regigigas. We were supposed to kill Test Subject 42._

"You think we can lose them?" Yue asked the Accelgor, and he nodded, grimacing as he gingerly poked at his chest; the ice, even though Yue had kindly melted it for him, had left a mark, and Zila knew that as a Bug-type he was especially sensitive. "We better hurry. It sounds like they're close."

"But we could take them, right?" Zila asked, frowning. He added as an afterthought, as Hikaru nodded in agreement, "It might be better that way."

"We are _not_ killing nor hurting them." Yue's voice booked no argument, and Zila wisely chose to remain silent while Hikaru showed no emotion on his face or in his body language. "Let's go. Hikaru, you know these parts better than I do; you lead."

The Accelgor nodded once more and turned on his heel, swiftly vanishing into the foliage despite his wound. Yue was right behind him, Zila on her tail, and the Zoroark could barely see her as they rushed through the trees.

He sighed inwardly and increased his pace, side burning, cut on his arm stinging. It seemed the day was not over quite yet.

* * *

The four traveled warily, each close behind the other in a line, footsteps light, breathing inaudible, movements smooth and fluid and flowing. They were blending into the scenery with such grace one could say they were the epitome of silence.

Then Xander stepped on a twig and, with a sharp _crack,_ the spell was broken.

"Sorry," he muttered when three pairs of eyes, one blue, one green, one red, swiveled to glare at him. He complained, albeit under his breath, "I wouldn't have this problem if I were flying, you know."

"Shut up and keep walking," Rein snapped while looking forward again, and with a sigh Xander gingerly picked his foot up and brought it down again. Satisfied with the noise, or rather, with lack thereof, he began to move forward, taking his place at the end of the line behind Vee.

There was silence once more for a few long minutes; then a leaf crunched and Xander called apologetically, "Sorry."

Rein muttered something under her breath, only audible to Nero, whose sole reaction was the slightest shrug that the Mightyena couldn't even see. Vee rolled her eyes and floated after the Gallade once he started moving again, occasionally lazily flipping herself in the air, hands behind her head.

When Xander again crunched on something Rein seemed ready to explode. But instead, she froze and let out something that sounded like a choked gasp rather than the screaming outburst the Shedinja had been expecting. Nero bumped into the Speaker while Vee ran into him, and the Gallade's sharp shoulder blade practically cut Vee's face as she stumbled back, rubbing her fingers against her cheeks. Xander, for his part, did not run into her, instead placing a bracing hand on her back to steady her. She nodded in thanks, opening her jaw experimentally a few times before she spoke.

"What is it?" Nero naturally didn't respond. She then popped her head over his shoulder, a challenge considering her height of 5'4'', though not really a feat because she could float, and this time asked Rein, "What is it?"

Rein was silent for a long moment, and Vee wondered if she should repeat the question. She was about to when the Mightyena said tightly, "See for yourself."

Two of four Riders stepped from behind the Speaker of Rayquaza and the tall Gallade behind her and looked over the bluff. None of them spoke for a very long moment; then Vee, her voice carefully controlled, said quietly, "Oh, Arceus."

"Those bastards," Xander hissed, muscles tense and body coiled, ready to spring into action. Nero did not have such a visible reaction, but Vee could see a muscle pull in his neck and his visible eye narrowed, the dark blue iris hard as stone. For him, that was definitely something, and Vee returned her gaze to the scene spanning below.

In front of them was grassland covered in blood and bodies. Moans filled the air, along with weeps and wails echoing throughout the field. A small crew of Pokemon shuffled along with a wagon of sorts, a hardened party from a nearby village no doubt, stopping at soldiers and either helping them on board or – Vee stared hard as a young boy, who looked no older than twelve, stooped down and cut one man's throat with his sharp claws, undoubtedly giving him a quick, painless death when he would've died slowly. They were giving mercy killings and tending to the wounded.

It was rare for people to do so, and Vee felt a brief flash of thanks for that small crew of Pokemon as she retreated to hide behind Nero's tall frame. Her green eyes fluttered shut, but the scene of blood and bodies and destruction filled her vision and they snapped open again. She let out a quiet, defeated sigh, listlessly running her fingers through her hair.

At the sound Nero turned, looking down at the blonde in front of him with what could be described as a gentle look in his eye (he would, however, deny this to no end) while Xander gently took Rein's shoulders in his hands and nudged her away. The Mightyena's eyes burned with fiery passion but she uttered not a sound, her feet dragging and her mouth a thin line as Xander guided her along. Nero and Vee followed, quiet and somber, and Vee took Nero's calm as her own to ease the turmoil that was her emotions.

_That_ is what we have to prevent, she thought, hugging herself as she walked. _That_ is what is so terrible at war. With a shiver the haunted look on the small group's faces came into mind, doing what they could for the Pokemon wounded – regardless of religion. The world needed more people like that, Vee was sure, people who were accepting of anything and settled petty arguments peacefully.

She carefully tucked the image out of her head – and instead the battlefield came into view. This time Nero placed a hand on her shuddering shoulder, noticing her fingers were squeezing her arms so tightly her knuckles were white, and murmured the best thing anyone could possibly say: "You're not alone."

She flashed him a brief, shaky smile before spreading her fingers out in front of her and observing them, wondering with morbid curiosity if they would ever be coated with blood.

Vee wouldn't deny that she liked a good fight. She enjoyed the feeling that came along when her body moved in perfect motion, dodging or deflecting or punching or kicking. It was the sense she got: feeling powerful, feeling strong, feeling _alive_. But she had never hurt someone beyond a black eye, and she could never bring herself to knock someone else unless absolutely necessary.

That was partly why it was Xander rather than her who actually slit the previous Speaker of Kyurem's throat those few days ago. The other part was that she simply refused to do so. She was the only Rider who hadn't actually killed someone. She didn't tell people why, and after years of questioning and still no explanation on the matter all had given up on extorting it from her.

Nero's hand remained on her shoulder, a steady warmth, and for once she placed her feet on the ground rather than floating along. She did not have the highest physical endurance so she avoided doing so as much as possible; but now she felt the need to be like the others, to feel that sense of belonging that the tall, dark Gallade next to her assured was there.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and this time, an image of her fellow Riders came to mind. A small smile graced her lips as her eyes opened once more. Yes, she wasn't alone, not anymore, and never would she forget it.

* * *

"Ow! That actually _hurt_ that time, Spark!"

"I didn't have time to grab the proper sheath when I took this, okay?" The brunette across from him glared, running her fingers over the worn scabbard with what could be described as reverence. "Besides, I didn't even cut you!"

The Minccino across from her rubbed his shoulder, a small scowl on his face. His eyes flashed once, matching the solid steel color of his hair, and he snapped at her, "You _know_ I'm not as strong as you, you idiot Garchomp. Whenever you think you're hitting 'gently', it always ends in a bruise!"

"Yeah, really, Spark, you should just put the sword away now, before Silver gets hurt," another girl said, a small, dreamy smile on her face. The expression matched her demure amber eyes perfectly.

Spark stuck her tongue at both of them before clipping the worn scabbard to her tan sweatpants. "I was using the flat of the blade, Pepper," she said in a half-hearted protest, reaching back to tie her waist-long brown hair into a ponytail. She did this with a few quick, practiced movements, her green eyes narrowed in concentration. She added, as soon as she was done, "I didn't hit that hard. It couldn't have hurt that much."

"It still did," the boy grumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. His tail, the gray fur spiked in some sort of pattern that the Minccino thought was cool, swished gently from side to side as he muttered, "Why do you even need to use your dad's sword for anything?"

"Well, he's dead, so I might as well," Spark said offhandedly, and both Silver and Pepper could tell she was forcing her voice to be light and casual. Bringing up her family, who had burned to death in a fire, was a hard topic for the Garchomp. Then she said more quietly, "Besides, I want to use it to help end the war, you know?"

Pepper nodded, a few frizzy blond hairs breaking free of the hair tie pulling them back from her freckled face. "Yeah," she said. "I never really understand why religion is so important. Like, even though I'm an Electivire and I come from Sinnoh, does it matter that I serve Rayquaza as my deity?"

"And me, 'cause I serve Mew," Spark agreed.

"Or me, because I serve Celebi," Silver said, running his fingers through the red streaks in his hair. The sixteen year-old had been hunched over, giving him the impression he was shorter than he already was, but he straightened to his full (albeit short) 4'10'' as he spoke. "Though now that I think about it, I haven't seen my Speaker for quite a while…"

Spark shook her head, her ponytail swishing from one direction to the other. "The Speaker of Mew hasn't been to any of the Sunday services for at least four weeks, too." She focused her green eyes on Pepper's amber ones. "How about the Speaker of Rayquaza?"

Pepper shrugged. "She was here quite recently, actually – yesterday afternoon's service. First time I've seen her in a while. But I think she left again."

"Where do you think they go all the time?" Silver asked the two at large, a frown settling on his face.

There was a silence. Then Pepper said timidly, "Actually, yesterday I was in the Temple of Rayquaza and I heard some people talking in the back room… you know, the one where the priests take – breaks or something, I dunno, whatever they do in there."

Spark opened her mouth and Silver warned, "If you're going to say anything dirty, save it." She grinned and didn't say a word. The Minccino turned to Pepper and asked, "What were they discussing?"

Here Pepper gestured for her friends to come closer, and they obliged. She bent down slightly to reach Silver's height, Spark following the movement, and whispered, "The Speaker of Rayquaza had friends there, and they were all polite, you know, like you're supposed to be - but she told them to relax. You know how she is at services, right?"

"Stiff and moody and uppity and annoying," Spark muttered, and Pepper looked visibly offended. Silver then stopped the blonde from shocking the fourteen year-old with a small voltage of electricity, batting her hand away and muttering something along the lines "it's not worth it".

"She's a stickler for rules," the thirteen year-old said after a pregnant pause, and Spark had the grace to look guilty. "And she told them to relax, and I'm not sure but I think one of them called her by her first name. Which means these were really close friends, you know?"

"Yeah, and so what does that mean?" Spark asked, eyes narrowed. Pepper sighed.

"It means, Spark," Silver said with exaggerated patience, "that she knew these people well. And if she knew them well, they probably had a hand in her constant journeys. Or at least, I'm pretty sure that's what Pepper's thinking."

The other girl nodded and then said, flushing a little, "I wasn't supposed to be there, actually, but I was out back by the window and I couldn't help but listen."

"Whatever." When Pepper did not immediately continue Spark snapped, "Go on and tell us the rest already!"

Here the slightly chubby blonde looked unsure of herself, fingers pulling at the hem of her yellow-striped black T-shirt, but at the pleading looks of her friends she continued and finished, "She said something like 'we do what the Flame Riders do best'. And then later more voices said, 'we intervene'."

There was a long, pervading silence. Then Silver snorted, his next words laced with contempt. "The Flame Riders haven't made an appearance in centuries; I doubt they exist. You must've heard the wrong thing." Pepper looked doubtful but didn't respond.

"The Flame Riders, though," Spark said after a moment. "What if they _did_ exist?" Suddenly the brunette's green eyes were shining. "Just think about it, guys. If we could join up with them, we could help them stop the war!"

"But they don't exist! No one has seen them for years!" Silver protested, kicking the grass below his feet with a white tennis shoe, while simultaneously crossing his arms over his sleeveless silver shirt. "Pepper _had_ to have misheard, Spark. It's just not possible."

Spark gave him a long, level look, in which he returned coolly despite the younger girl being much taller than him. After a moment she asked quietly, "But what if they _do_ exist, Silver?"

"It _is_ a chance of a lifetime," Pepper agreed, tapping some sort of rhythm on her ripped jeans. She added, "We don't even have to join them – I mean, we could just find them and ask them how we can help, maybe. You know?"

"I'm not sure if I _want_ to help," Silver muttered, and both Spark and Pepper turned shocked gazes on him. He explained hurriedly, before they could protest, "War isn't pretty. Here in Twinleaf there hasn't been any fighting - the Speakers of Mew, Celebi and Rayquaza see to that, as their Temples are situated near here."

Spark rolled her eyes. "Your point?"

Silver ignored her. "If we go out, we'll see lots of that," he said while pointing to the red symbol painted on Spark's white shirt. The Garchomp looked down while Pepper shivered: on the brunette's shirt was the Kanji symbol for _death_. "Lots of blood, lots of violence, lots of death. That's why I'd almost prefer to stay here, you know?"

Pause. "Well, yeah," Spark said a moment later, but her friends could tell some of the wind had been taken out of her sails. The brunette reached back to scratch her neck as she murmured, "But I don't want to stay here and feel useless all the time."

"You're only fourteen," Silver pointed out. He turned to Pepper. "You're only thirteen. If you don't mind my saying so, that's awfully young to be seeing that sort of thing."

"You're only sixteen," Pepper pointed out. Then she thought about it. "You're the oldest kid in Twinleaf, _and_ in Sandgem too, now that I think about it. It must be annoying to only have friends who are younger than you."

"Seeing as I've never had a friend who was older, I can't quite say," the silver-haired Minccino replied. "But let's not get off-topic. Spark, are you sure you want to follow them?"

The girl nodded. "Yes."

"Pepper?"

"I'll come," the Electivire said immediately, looking down at her black combat boots. "We have nothing to lose."

"Except your life."_ And your innocence_, Silver thought with a defeated sigh. "I guess I'll be coming along to look after you. If we told our parents that would be what they would want, anyway, me along to watch you as always."

"They wouldn't want us to go," Pepper corrected. But then she grinned and said savagely, in a rare, completely out-of-character way, "Good thing none of us have any."

"I like how you think, girl," Spark said approvingly, and she and Pepper bumped fists. The two turned to Silver, who looked faintly amused, and the Garchomp asked him, "When can we leave?"

"As soon as we can," Silver responded, beginning the short journey to the orphanage that housed the two girls. They bounded after him as he said, with concealed anxiety, "And by that, I mean as soon as we pack."

* * *

Oriole let the papers fall to the desk's surface with a sigh, light brown tail waving slowly in a rhythmic pattern behind her. Her head fell in the crook of her elbow, her blue Choice Scarf settling to cover the bottom half of her face.

So far, her rise to leadership had done nothing but provoke strife, chaos and havoc - not going as she had hoped or planned. The Pokemon here were not obeying her, even though her decision of avoiding conflict was the right one (obviously – anyone with brains knew that), and she had to say that she hated it. Because she couldn't do what she wanted without angering others, she had to go with what the crowd wanted. And they didn't want to the right thing, for Arceus' sake; was everyone in this Order so blind to mistake the truth for lies, even when it was right in front of them?

It wasn't that she wasn't used to people ignoring her – she was young and 'inexperienced', after all – but that didn't mean she had to like or put up with it. Of course, it was one thing to not like something and another to actually do something about it. Who knew what terrible things would befall her if she went along and slapped the Speaker of Landorus in the face. She'd probably get beheaded or something... but not that that would happen, of course, as Oriole was far too clever for them.

Still, this was not going as she had hoped. Losses within the ranks of the Swords of Cobalion and Terrakion, and Verizion and Keldeo now that she thought about it, had risen to drastic heights, even with the aid of the fire and lightning summoned by the Priests and Priestesses or Zekrom and Reshiram. The Healers of Landorus were running on the last of their energy tending to the wounded. Many of the Assassins of Meloetta were on missions or compromised. And Oriole was not willing to let Warriors of Genesect go out on the battlefield. If they did, all hell would break loose.

Oriole didn't hate responsibility, but she had never been responsible for the lives of so many. And Arceus be damned if she lead all of her Servants to death.

There was a knock on the door, and Oriole lifted her head, settled herself on her chair, and said coldly, "Come in."

The small Pokemon entered quietly and Oriole gave him the pretense that she was working, holding a paper up as if she were reading it and drumming her fingers on the table. "What is it now," the Speaker of Victini snapped, seeing that it was the Speaker of Genesect… again.

"Speaker," the Golett said, and Oriole mouthed along with the words he said next, so often had he repeated them: "I respectfully request that you consider sending in the Warriors of Genesect. We could annihilate the Servants of Arceus in an instant."

"Hm, let me consider it, then," Oriole replied icily. A moment later, she said, "Considered and rejected. Get out of my sight."

The Golett bowed, murmuring, "Of course, Speaker," and retreated quietly out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Oriole turned, pressed her face to the back of her chair, and screamed her frustration.

No one was listening to her. No one thought she knew best. No one thought she was good enough for the job. And nothing – nothing at all! – was going to plan. She _hated_ when nothing went to plan.

_Damn it, Kyurem_, she thought furiously, turning back round and drawing the hood of her gray cloak over her face. _You better pick a new Speaker soon, because otherwise this whole Order is going to go down in flames._

* * *

**Credits (more of them this time):**

Zila** comes from **TheGlaceonFanatic**.**

Yue** is from **xiLovePandas**.**

Hikaru** is the Accelgor from a veteran author of OC stories, **Nightfall00**.**

Vee** is mine, of course ;)**

Nero** belongs to **BladeOfTheEclipse.

Xander** comes from **AtmosBreak** (I got your name that time, see? :D I also fixed the one last chapter, too!)**

Rein** is the creation of **Silverdragon98**.**

Spark**the Garchomp came from **Tisuro**.**

Pepper** the Electivire belongs to **xXViridianPhoenixXx**.**

Silver** the Minccino is from **BalancedHex1232**.**

**And finally, **Oriole** the Furret is from **SnowKiter**.**

* * *

_**OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**_


	4. 3 - Encounters

**Chapter 3, or Encounters.**

**Edit 1/19/13: checked for typos, edited things here and there.**

******Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**

**I do not own Pokemon, of course.**

* * *

The Speaker of Arceus, when angered, was a fearsome Pokemon to behold. And as such, the Budew cowering under his gaze wished he were anywhere but where he was now.

"So what do you want to tell me, hm?" Niko drummed his fingers on the table, blue eyes hard as stone and boring into the Budew's lowered head.

The words were so quiet the Speaker would have missed them were it not for his practice dealing with the quiet Pokemon. "The Assassin of Meloetta – Hikaru Aomori, I mean – failed the mission to kill Test Subject 42. He is currently missing, along with the Assassin Yue Wang, and – "

If anything, it appeared that Niko was fixated on the word 'failed', and he interrupted then, loudly, fury lacing his tone, "They _failed_?"

The Grass-type hesitated before mumbling even more softly, "Yes, and they're both currently missing – "

The Pachirisu slamming his hands on the table and rising abruptly to his feet, sparks flying from his fingertips. The Budew took a tentative step back as, just as quickly, the Pachirisu across from him abruptly calmed down, his voice dangerously calm and cold as he asked through gritted teeth, "Where are they now?"

"We do not know, Speaker." _Probably far away from here so they don't get punished, _the Budew thought privately to himself.

There was a pregnant pause before the Speaker spoke again. "Very well." The Budew did not move despite the evident dismissal, and Niko snapped, "Unless there is other news of importance, dismissed."

The Budew contemplated whether he should stay or not. Then, deciding he'd risk his neck, he said softly, "Speaker, why are we fighting this war, exactly?" He did not flinch when Niko turned his signature blue glare onto him once again. "Others wish to know, and as I am the only lower-ranking Servant who contacts you, it would be beneficial to tell me so I could – tell them."

Niko stared for a very long moment. Then he fell back into his chair with a sigh, gesturing for the Budew to come closer with two fingers, still sparking somewhat. The Grass-type obliged, cautiously. "I wouldn't let you tell them much. And it's… it's complicated.".

"You don't ever let me forget, Speaker. With all due respect," the Budew added hastily, when Niko gave him an unreadable look.

There was another lull in conversation before Niko cracked a strained grin. "That's true, isn't it. My apologies in advance." He sighed and settled back into his chair, picking up yet another set of reports sent in by some Assassins of Meloetta, blue eyes rapidly scanning the page. "Well. Let me see."

Inwardly the Budew sighed in relief; the Speaker's mood swings had gotten more and more prominent, but it seemed the Pokemon had calmed down for the moment. "Perhaps to start why you agreed in the first place, Speaker."

"I hardly would say I agreed to fight," Niko said without looking up, and the Budew wondered briefly if he had made a mistake, if the Pachirisu would shock him for asking a stupid question. However he dismissed the thought when the Speaker continued, "In the interest of self-defense, I have been crushing the Order of Kyurem's advancing armies."

The Grass-type, after contemplating his shoes with great interest for a few moments, looked up and asked tentatively, "Speaker, what of civilians and Servants – innocents, if you will – suffering during the fighting?"

Niko scowled and the papers fell back onto the desk, joining the many others scattered all over the office. "There is little I can do," he replied, sharply, defensively, eyes rising to meet the other's. "It's not as if I can tell people to flee the countryside in favor of their safety. The common civilian would prefer to stay in the comfort of their home."

Then he paused, seeing the Servant of Arceus in front of him was surprised, and sighed, saying softly, "Truthfully, it is an awful thing. It… is difficult to deal with, in actuality." The Speaker sighed again. "I am going to confide in you, er – "

The tired expression the Pachirisu wore became mortified as the seconds wore into a minute, and he sighed, slapping his forehead as he said, embarrassed, "Oh dear. In all the years you have worked for me I don't even know your name. I am so sorry."

"It's fine, Speaker. My name is not of importance," the Budew replied. But he smiled slightly and said, "However, most call me James."

"Very well, then – James." The Pachirisu stumbled slightly over the new name, testing it on his tongue. "If I confide in you, I am assuming you will tell the others."

The Budew did not move. "It's highly possible, Speaker."

Niko grinned and shook his head. "You and I will be good friends if this keeps up." Then his expression sobered and he said quietly, "You asked about innocents suffering, yes?" The Budew nodded. "I do not want to hurt them," Niko said truthfully. "Many of them are Servants to our Master Arceus. Others are not but do not deserve such suffering."

The Budew inclined his head. He had known Niko wasn't heartless, though the Speaker always appeared to be ruthless, calculating and cold at strategic meetings. But obviously, the Pachirisu's decisions pained him to no end; the Pokemon hated sending people out to fight and kill.

"Would it surprise you, James, to know I'm afraid?" The Budew shook his head; everyone was afraid nowadays, though it was rare for one to admit it. "I am afraid for my people, our Servants, and also for the region."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Simply put, this war might tear us apart." Niko drummed his fingers on the table, leaning his cheek into his other hand, apparently thinking.

James blinked; he had not anticipated the long-term affects of the war. Then again, that was probably why he wasn't Speaker in the first place. "I have never thought of it like that, Speaker."

"Most haven't," Niko said with an elegant shrug. Then he looked down at his color-coded schedule, neat and orderly as always, taped onto the wood on the table (and the only spot free of paper, James noticed) and said, "I'll need you to leave now; I have an appointment with the Speaker of Keldeo's branch. Now run along and make yourself useful."

"Of course, Speaker." James made way for the door.

"Oh, and James?"

The Budew stopped, pivoted elegantly to face him – and found a hand crackling with electricity and Niko's face close to his.

"Say _one_ word about anything you heard in here and I will personally ensure a very painful experience." _And by that, I mean death_, though that was left unsaid.

James gulped and nodded, not daring to mention how that statement contradicted the one the Speaker had uttered earlier. "Y-yes, Speaker."

"Good. I'm glad we've reached an understanding." Niko leaned back, hand retreating to his side, and he went to sit back down. He gave the Pokemon a bland smile, as if nothing had happened, and then waved a hand with an absent "Off you go."

The Budew gave him a shaky bow and fled the room.

* * *

"How much farther?" Vee asked for the umpteenth time, and Nero resisted the very strong urge to tell her to shut up. She was being so persistent it was starting to seriously get on his nerves, and this was coming from someone who chose not to talk given the chance.

"I already told you," Rein said with exaggerated patience, and Nero could feel her irritation as her own, "That we'll be in Oreburgh in a little while and from there, we'll continue to Hearthome."

"Can't we spend the night in Oreburgh?" Vee whined. Nero grimaced. It wasn't like the Shedinja would be tired; she had been floating most of the way after recovering from the sight of the battlefield. What she said next, though, made him realize she was working very hard to hold herself together and it wasn't that she was physically exhausted – she was _mentally_ exhausted. "I don't think I can stay conscious for much longer."

"What do you mean?" Xander asked with a frown, flicking his yellow eyes to her. "I thought you have really strong mental abilities."

"I do," Vee agreed, not even attempting to sound modest, and she inched down even further; she had been progressively been getting lower and lower to the ground, Nero had noticed. "But there's – been a lot of things on my mind."

No one except the Gallade caught what she murmured next: "Cavieh would know what to do…"

"Who?" Nero asked while turning his head, interested. Then he berated himself. Why had he even asked? He hated talking and he _definitely_ didn't want to know about her history. Not at …

Okay, maybe he did. A little, at least.

Vee looked up, startled, blond curls bobbing gently against her round cheek. "Cavieh," she repeated after a pause, giving the Gallade an unreadable look. "He is – I mean, was, my stepbrother. A Ninjask."

Nero instantly made the connection: when Cavieh had reached a high level and evolved, the remains of his exoskeleton had become the girl behind him. He tilted his head; curious, to think Vee had shared a connection with the Ninjask. Of all the Shedinja he'd met, of which there was few (and even then they were mostly in Hoenn), most never knew who had given them life.

"Yeah," Vee said to his reaction, quite aware that the Gallade had understood. "He was the greatest bro anyone could ask for." She was quiet as they went along, and Nero silently wondered why she had only brought that up now – the blonde had been in the Flame Riders' ranks longer than he had at 7 years, since she'd been only nine years old. He, on the other hand, had joined at age sixteen, and it had been around two years since he had joined.

Xander spoke up after a while, having heard part of the conversation but not understood its contents. "You had a brother?"

"Yeah," Vee verified, again, sounding a little more subdued than before. "Cavieh. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."

It took a little bit for Xander to process it, but after a moment he said "Ah, right." Nero snorted softly to himself and he could hear the smile in Vee's voice when she said, "Yes, exactly that."

"You know, you always tell us your family was killed by the Order of Arceus," Xander said, and one could practically feel the tension in the air increase as Vee's eyes narrowed and her muscles bunched. "But you've never told us about – well, you've never told us anything else. Not about your brother, or what happened."

"I – it's – um." _Yes, that about sums it up_, Nero thought with amusement. Then she surprised them all, including Rein who was eavesdropping, by saying with the slightest shrug, "You never asked, you know. So I – I never told you."

"Well, I'm asking now," Xander clarified, and the Gallade rolled his eyes; as if that wasn't obvious. But he kept his thoughts to himself as always, interested in what the Shedinja had to say next. Out of seven Riders currently, her story was the only one that had remained untold.

There was a long silence. Then Vee said, her voice pathetically small, "I can't."

"Why not?" Rein butted in, exasperated. "It's just a story. You've heard all of ours."

All three had stopped moving, as Rein had stopped walking and caused a chain reaction. Even if Rein nor Nero had their eyes on her, they were both waiting for her response. "I actually can't," she said weakly, "because I can't feel my legs – "

Nero, who was closest, managed to catch her as she fainted, legs buckling underneath her. He looked at the smaller blonde being supported by his hands before looking at Rein. The Mightyena flipped a dismissive hand and turned around, beginning to walk again as she ordered, "Carry her."

He opened his mouth to complain, thought better of it, and picked up the Shedinja bridal-style (for lack of better method) without a word. She was light as a feather – _because she's a Ghost-type_, he recalled – and her warm body folded against him, her breath light and shallow against his shoulder. Xander snickered at him and took his place behind Rein, snapping a wing out and letting the cartilage hit his face. The Gallade scowled but didn't quite dare counterattack.

Just another day with the Flame Riders, who showed absolutely no concern when one of their ranks fainted. Nero resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes at the sheer irony of it all.

They walked along in silence, and Nero took the precious time to think. Instead of thinking about strategies, though, his thoughts meandered toward the girl in his arms – then again, it was kind of a given, seeing as (_holy shit I'm holding a girl in my arms what the hell am I supposed to do)_ he had never actually held a girl before. And in any case, she was somewhat of a mystery, and he was admittedly curious about her.

Though… it was lucky Vee had fainted when she had. Then, Nero noted, she would have had to tell her story twice – once to the people here, and again to the fellow Riders they were going to meet up with in Hearthome. He wondered briefly what would be so bad that she had said nothing about her past. Everyone else had, including himself, though that had definitely been an interesting experience, talking-wise.

He wondered if it had been worse than his. And unwittingly, the memories flooded his mind.

When he was a young Ralts, slaving over a desk with a textbook in front of him, the Gallade who had called himself his father standing at his shoulder in case the boy stopped studying for one second. Fighting and practicing with his trainers, the same Gallade who had called himself his father ready to punish him if he dropped from exhaustion. Being told that the Pokemon walking the streets were below him, his pawns, his servants, those he had the right to order and rule them.

_Perfection, perfection, perfection_, he remembered the Gallade who had called himself his father telling him. _Keep up your studies and your training. You know the consequences_. Then the other, older Gallade would fix him with those hard, cold eyes and say: _You must be perfect, Nero. _

Nero let one corner of his lips dip into a slight scowl. He hadn't been allowed to leave the grounds of the estate. He had had no friends. He had never met anyone besides his trainers and tutors and the Gallade who called himself his father. His dreams had been crushed, his happiness taken away from him, his intelligence and physical prowess exploited in return for the battering of his body. And for what? Perfection.

Perfection. Perfection. _Perfection_. The word was drilled into his ears, it formed easily on his tongue, so easily he let out the slightest whisper of "_perfection_" for the entire world to hear, not that anyone did. The scowl on his face deepened and he struggled to push the word out of his head to no avail.

Perfection was overrated, that much his father had taught him. All those years ago his escape plan had been made on the spot, and it hadn't been exactly perfect, but it had_ worked_. He had left Unova, come to Sinnoh, made a reputation among thieves as one of the best, no, _the _best (_perfectionist_, his mind whispered, and he angrily swatted it aside). He'd been approached by the Speaker of Mew; offered a way to change his life. He'd been suspicious, but he'd taken it after being convinced (if you call being blackmailed into it _convinced_), and at the moment, he didn't regret it.

Still, he was a perfectionist, and no matter how hard he tried he could not squelch his desire for his perfection.

_That's enough_, he told himself firmly – to the memories, rather, he told this firmly to the memories, _Get out_. They obliged but left their bitter taste on his tongue and the familiar weight on his shoulders. And then Vee squirmed in his arms he realized he'd been squeezing her shoulder so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He relaxed his grip and she ceased movement, her body warm against his own.

"There's Oreburgh," Rein said, her voice sounding far away in his ears, and Xander grunted while Nero remained silent. He find he didn't mind carrying the Shedinja – despite her stocky build and size, she was impossibly light and warm against him. Still, he said not a word, didn't even react when Xander shot him a glance, probably wondering the Gallade would be relieved to release his charge.

"We'll rest for the night," Rein said, looking at Vee before her glance went up to the sky. It was early evening, and while Nero was aware they could cover a good distance, he knew the Mightyena was worried about her other Rider, even though she wouldn't ever admit it to everyone's faces. "Xander, you know a good hotel?"

"Yeah, sure. This way." Again, the Gallade wondered just how often the Swellow mingled with normal folk - as he always seem to know the best places to stay, to eat, to find information, everything. _It must be nice to be able to fly everywhere..._

They entered Oreburgh, looking like every other Pokemon there – weary, tired, hungry. No one even spared a glance at Nero for his holding Vee as the four walked. So many people had been injured and the wounded were carried in all the time in Oreburgh, so much so the mines had been converted into a hospital of sorts, for there was more room there. But they didn't head for the hospital; instead, Xander led them in a veering path to a seedy-looking hotel, where the clerk, a ragged Luxray, didn't ask questions and handed them the keys to two rooms once he was paid.

Rein left then, muttering something along the lines of "helping out at hospital". Xander went up the stairs two at a time, opened his door, and shut it behind him, leaving the key to the girls' room next door behind and essentially locking Nero out. The Gallade rolled his eyes and walked down the hallway, looking at the lock of the other room they had gotten and opening it with psychic powers. The door opened with a creak and he shut it behind him with a well-placed kick with his heel, turning toward the room as he did so.

It was… pretty empty. Two beds, basically, a candle that Rein could light once she got back for the night, and that was it. Nero shook his head slightly and went to one of the beds, carefully placing Vee on the sheets before stepping back to observe his handiwork. As always he had placed her perfectly linear on the covers (_perfection_, a small voice of his mind said, and he pushed it aside). Without a word, knowing if he stayed any longer she might wake up - and that would be something he preferred not to explain, really, how could he explain why he was in her room, watching her sleep - he turned and exited, making a beeline for the other room.

He didn't say anything when he opened the door with Psychic and found Xander flopped face-first on a bed, obviously not asleep but at least dozing. He wondered if the Swellow was able to breath, brushed the thought away, and went to the other bed, carefully placing himself so he was lying down flat on his back.

His eyes closed and snapped open when he saw the face of the Gallade who had called himself his father. He could see the cold eyes on the ceiling, the carefully styled hair, the disapproving frown. He shivered, rolling onto his side so he could see Xander, taking comfort in the spark of life next to him. Still, he knew he would not be able to sleep, and he shivered again at the thought of seeing the Gallade who had called himself his father's face again.

His hand flopped over his forehead. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Well, this is exciting." Spark stifled a yawn as she said it, looking very much the bored teenager that she was.

Silver shot her a brief glare before looking ahead again, his footsteps quick and precise, full of purpose. "You expected to see something right away?"

"Silver, we've been walking for two _hours_," Pepper said plaintively. "We passed Sandgem more than an hour ago. We must be in the middle of nowhere, because otherwise we should've at least seen _something_." It was rare for the docile blonde to complain, and while Silver knew he should take that as a warning, at the moment he didn't really care.

"Can't we take a break?" Spark begged, and Silver resisted the urge to turn around and punch her in the face - because one, that would be stupid and he'd probably hurt his fist more than her face, and two, the consequences would be far from desirable.

Instead, he exhaled loudly through his nose and, in an act of defeat, let his backpack drop with a stern "We're not stopping, don't get comfortable." Then he fished out the map of the region and gestured the girls closer as he opened it.

He pointed a pale finger at a small circle marked 'Twinleaf Town'. "That's where we started." He moved his finger past the small place labeled 'Sandgem Town' and moved it to Route 202. "We're right here." Lastly, he indicated a square marked 'Jubilife City'. "Once we reach Jubilife, we can rest. It's only a half-hour's walk, I think."

"Half an _hour_?" Spark groaned as Silver rolled the map back up and tucked it back into his bag, squeezing the parchment between two bundles of clothes. He hoisted it onto his back, grimacing at the weight, as she whined, "My legs are killing me!"

"You're the one who wanted to do this," he pointed out, beginning to walk. Pepper fell into step behind him, humming softly (she had probably given up on complaining and was just enjoying the ride, Silver thought), and Spark huffed indignantly but was quick to catch up.

There was a bit of silence, but naturally it didn't stay that way for long. "I didn't realize there would be so much walking," the Garchomp grumbled, adjusting the straps on her bag to a more comfortable position before briefly struggling with her long, brown hair and giving up halfway through a ponytail. "I want to fight, you know?"

"Easily solved," Pepper said, and lightning-quick she aimed a punch at her friend, her fingers crackling with electricity. Spark blocked it with ease, aimed a jab for the blonde's side, missed as Pepper twirled gracefully out of the way, fell over – and Pepper had a foot braced on her back, fully prepared to launch a Thunderbolt attack.

"Better?" the girl asked, smiling as Spark picked herself up.

The other girl muttered something under her breath before she agreed, "I guess." The three fell silent as the path led to a grove of trees, and they passed through what seemed like a gate to quiet shadows as the light faded significantly.

Silver remarked, his voice sounding a little awed, "I didn't know there was forest here."

Pepper reached a hand up and closed her fingers, imagining she had just captured a sliver of the sunlight streaming through the trees. The thought brought a smile to her face. "It's kind of pretty, don't you think?"

"It's boring," Spark said flatly, hands shoved into her pockets and something between a scowl and a pout on her face. Her eyes were focused on the dirt path in front of her, and she absently kicked at a rock. "How much longer now?"

"Twenty plus minutes," Silver replied promptly. Then he reprimanded, gently, as if he was a parent, "Be patient. You should enjoy the scenery."

"To hell with scenery," Spark muttered, ignoring Pepper's chiding comment of "language". The Garchomp kicked her rock off the path and muttered another curse under her breath before complaining, "I want to be there _now_."

No one answered her, and she sighed and fell silent.

After a moment, Silver began to hum, the song the only sound that filled the empty air save for the wind. Pepper joined in on the third line, nudging Spark to do the same. The Garchomp was far too busy sulking however and refused, staring straight at the ground the entire time.

It was just another peaceful walk in the forest – granted, a forest they had never ventured to, but a forest all the same – and they were at least somewhat at ease. All three of them were orphans with their parents presumed dead, and they were the oldest three so they had bonded quickly. As such they would often adventure in the forest, playing games and exploring nature, getting scolded half-heartedly by smiling adults.

Of course, that was before the Order of Kyurem's new Speaker was Chosen, before she decided to take Sinnoh as her own and convert all of the citizens to Servants of Kyurem; even before there was never so much bloodshed, and fear, and strife, and struggle, and death.

So this quiet stretch of trees unaffected by man was a rare occurrence. The three friends were not about to spoil the entire experience and savored the grove's existence, each separately wondering how it had remained untouched. Spark, realizing this, grudgingly began to hum along with her friends, with Silver humming the main melody while the girls hummed harmonies. The result was a beautiful piece of notes that weaved in and out of each other, and it almost seemed the trees danced in time with the beat.

Then there was a sharp crackle in the nearby brush and all three froze, the song abruptly dying away from their lips, each poised in such a way to better attack.

When nothing happened Spark relaxed slightly, scooted over to the others, and nudged them along, whining in a quiet voice laced with slight anxiety, not that she'd ever admit, "Can't we hurry it up? We'll never get there by nightfall at this rate!"

"Wait," Pepper said as Silver did not move, shushing her friend with a gesture. The Minccino was still, sensitive ears pricked, listening to the breezes.

A minute passed; then he said, "Three people traveling. They can see us. They're trained to travel quietly, so they're probably professionals for some Order. And…" Here he sighed and said irritably, "They're watching us; they can also hear us."

Louder, Pepper called, "They should probably come out before Spark here gets pissed and uses Earthquake for no reason other than to spread her misery."

"I do _not_ use Earthquake to spread my misery," Spark protested, but she fell silent when three other figures stepped out from the trees. Automatically the three friends pressed themselves closer together, keeping their postures relaxed but still tense and ready for battle. The other three figures looked no different, cautious and wary.

Then one spoke, hands on their hips from the looks of it. "They're just kids." She was protesting this to the others, Silver realized, and he could see her eyes were a red-orange even through the darkness of the forest.

"They might be dangerous," a male voice snapped, stepping out closer to them. Silver passed a critical eye over the person's black cloak. It was still despite the breeze; an illusion, perhaps, he wasn't sure. "Look at their formation. They can fight us."

"Seriously, though, Zila. They're just _kids_." The girl with the long, flowing black hair hooked her arm gently around the boy's, and he looked back to scowl at her. "Calm down, you're scaring them. You can smell the fear-scent, I'm sure."

_Fear-scent?_ _Since when did people have fear-scents? _"I'm guessing she's a Growlithe," Silver muttered, his voice carrying to his friends alone.

"Arcanine" was Pepper's response. "She looks too powerful to be a Growlithe."

Spark's face was completely expressionless, but her voice and eyes were anything but. She was a whirlwind of anticipation, fear, anxiety, and elation, and by the shift of her leg Silver could tell she was about to step forward. "I do like a good opponent."

"Don't," Pepper warned, placing a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. Despite her excitement Spark calmed herself slightly as the blonde whispered, "We're not strong enough. She would kick your butt, no problem."

"Look at them, just plotting," the boy said with a tone that said contempt, interrupting their brief conversation,nand all three tensed once more. He brought both hands together and separated, ice suddenly curling around his fingernails, as he added, without looking away from them, "Yue, let go of my arm. They're ready to attack us, and we should get the first strike."

"It's never wise to speak of strategy while the enemy can hear," the last person said, his voice grating and harsh – it sounded like he hadn't spoken in years. Both of his companions looked startled when they looked over to the pink-haired Pokemon, who had his eyes focused in the distance and a hand curled protectively against his chest.

After a moment the Arcanine said, her eyebrows furrowed in what appeared to be slight confusion, "Pearls of wisdom, Hikaru, thanks. Now, would you be so kind as to stop looking so vicious, Zila?"

"I'm telling you, they're dangerous, Yue. We should attack them _now_ – "

"We can hear you just fine," Pepper told them with a small smile, shouldering her way forward and closing the distance between them slightly. Spark and Silver followed. "If you try anything, though, we'll fight back, even if we get killed in the process. We've come too far to turn back now."

Silver grimaced; he wasn't convinced if he'd be willing to give up his life, and they hadn't come that far at all... nevertheless, he and Spark didn't contradict their friend, though by Spark's slight shift he could tell she was also not so sure. The cloaked person, though, was not impressed, and said softly, "Bold statement, but are you prepared to live up to it?"

"Zila," the girl said warningly, but he did not respond, instead staring straight at Spark; calculating, Silver realized, how to knock out the Garchomp before the brunette used an Earthquake attack.

"Yue, I've already told you a million times already, they could be dangerous," the boy – Zila – protested, the ice crackling at his fingertips. "And like I've already said, we should take them before they attack us first."

"And you should shut up," the girl – Yue – replied, as she snapped a hand smartly against where the person's forehead would be under his hood. His head jerked back, and all three kids could see the sharp teeth revealed in his irritated scowl. Still, the Arcanine turned to them and gave them a small smile even as Zila mumbled something, most likely profanity, under his breath. "I'm Yue, this guy's Zila, and the one over there is – "

"Hikaru, or Shinobi, we know," Silver interrupted, and Spark and Pepper kept quiet, knowing out of all of them Silver was the most likely to talk them out of the situation. "Look, I don't know what you're doing here, but aren't you supposed to be back at the Order of Arceus?"

"Wait, you _know_ these guys?" Spark asked, one eyebrow arched, and all attention swiveled to her. "How?"

"If you'd read the newspaper," Silver said in exaggerated patience, fully aware of the other three's eyes trained upon him, "You would have seen that their faces are on the front page."

"See? _See? _They know us, and they're going to tell them about where we are!" Zila snapped, arms raised and waving around for dramatic effect – but Yue shushed him with a rude gesture. Silver decided that she was the leader, for the most part.

After giving Zila one last glare, one that said _behave or I'll skin you alive_ (Silver shivered, even though it wasn't aimed at him), she turned to look at him and said, "He wasn't done talking yet. Continue, Minccino."

_Are Minccinos really that recognizable? _Silver shook his head slightly and rattled off, "And on that headline, it said you had gone missing and we were to report to the nearest Shrine of Arceus to tell the priests there where you were – but," Silver said sharply when Zila made a slightest shift of his feet, and both Pepper and Spark behind him tensed, "since you're here, you must be running away."

Yue was beginning to look a little impatient. "Your point?"

Silver took a deep breath, let it out, and then asked, "Since you're already doing that, then, can you help us find the Flame Riders?"

Silence filled the air for a long, long moment; then Spark grabbed his shoulder and hissed for his ear alone, "Are you mad, Silver? We don't want their help; they'd kill us in our sleep!"

"I heard that," both Yue and Zila said at the same time. They exchanged a quick glance, an amused one, before Yue continued, "And if we help you, what will you do in return?"

Silver was whispering something to Spark so it was Pepper who supplied, "We won't tell anyone we saw you."

"We could fix that easily by killing you," Zila pointed out, but at least the ice had melted from his fingers; he wasn't going to charge them just yet, it seemed. "So that's not a very good reason, don't you think?"

"Actually, wait." Yue gave Zila a stern look when he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest – the skin covered in fine white hairs, Silver noticed; just what kind of Pokemon was he? "They might have a map."

Spark picked up on the comment immediately. "You're _lost_?" She grinned despite the situation and folded her arms behind her head. "You don't even know where you _are_? That's kind of stupid, especially for a bunch of supposedly well-trained Assassins - "

"Look, kid, it's hard when you don't have a map – " Zila began.

Yue cut him off, and Hikaru shifted slightly when he saw the fire flickering in her hand, fingers hovering above Zila's shoulder. "You know where we are, though?" she asked, the threat of being burned keeping Zila quiet aside from the steady stream of profanity leaving his lips.

Silver considered taking the map out of his backpack, but decided against it, seeing as if he took it out he would have to step closer to show them. Instead he merely asked, "Where are you trying to go? Twinleaf?"

"Aw _hell_ no," Zila groaned, and both Hikaru and Yue looked stricken as well. He looked at the Arcanine, paying no heed to the burning fingers right above his shoulder. "These kids are country bumpkins, for Arceus's sake! I _told_ you we should've gone east at that fork in the road – "

"Shut up for just a moment, Zila, would you?" Yue interrupted irritably, and even Hikaru, whose face had been expressionless for the most part, looked slightly annoyed as his eyes flashed. If Zila was trying to annoy everyone, then, Silver thought with a slight smile, he was doing a fantastic job. "Where are we?"

"Jubilife City is further up the road," Silver told them, gesturing up north, "But Sandgem Town and Twinleaf Town are south – which seems to be the way you're going."

Zila muttered something along the lines "I told you so", to which Yue sighed, a defeated look crossing her face for a moment. Then she pulled herself together, squared her shoulders, and told the kids, "We were actually trying to get to Sunyshore."

Spark barked a laugh at that, white teeth flashing as she did so. "You certainly went the wrong way; Sunyshore is across the region. Arceus, you people must be _i-di-ots_," she sang, dragging out the last word.

"But that's where the Temple of Kyurem is!" Pepper exclaimed, and the older three across from them sent her a look that could almost be described as nervous. "Why are you trying to go there?"

"You don't need to know that," Yue said seamlessly, and then she turned to Silver, telling him, "Fine, we'll help you find the Flame Riders. So long as you get us to Sunyshore City." She held out her hand, the fire extinguishing as she did so. "Deal?"

Silver looked at his friends. The options were rather limited; if they ran, they would probably get killed, and if they didn't agree, they'd also probably get killed, so the only choice left, it seemed, was to agree. He had only asked for their help to buy him time to think but now, he was seriously begin to regret it. How could he get out of this?

A muscle twitched in his hand. Maybe…

"Can we talk for a moment?" Silver asked the Arcanine, indicating his two friends. Yue nodded and stepped back, and immediately Zila pounced upon her, talking to her in such a quiet rush it seemed like he was babbling nonsense.

The three friends huddled in a circle as soon as he stepped back, Pepper's expression showing she was thinking, Spark's agitated. "You have an idea how to get out of this?" the brunette asked Silver, her voice low, shoulder bumping up against his.

He exhaled loudly through his nose as he said hesitantly, "I might. I'm not sure if I have the physical strength to pull it off."

"Wait, so we don't actually want their help?" Pepper asked, puzzled, and both Spark and Silver nodded. The confusion in her amber eyes cleared up as she pointed out, "There's no way we can do it, Silver. Even if you have the element of surprise Yue will, frankly, kick your ass."

He gave her a sour look, having already known the Electivire was right but none to happy about admitting it was true. "So no random attack while we're shaking hands?"

"Unless you want to die," Pepper agreed, and Silver's self-esteem went down another notch. "Let's get it over with; we have no choice now."

"Since when we're you so wise, Pepper?" Spark asked as they faced forward again, green eyes narrowed as she looked over at her friend. The blonde shrugged, small, dreamy smile in place, and didn't respond as Silver coughed into his fist, as it seemed Yue and Zila were still arguing while Hikaru looked on, hand now flat against his chest – where the Minccino could now see there was a hole in the fabric of the dark blue sweatshirt. The reactions were instantaneous as the turned as one to face him, abandoning the argument they had been having.

"So, we're agreed?" Yue asked, eyes darting to Silver's outstretched hand to his face.

He gave her a tired look and simply twitched his fingers. "Are you going to shake on it or not?"

She gave the Minccino a level look and, without hesitation, clasped his hand in her own and gave it a firm shake. She released it just as quickly and looked to her two companions. "Time to keep going, boys."

Hikaru didn't even react, instead beginning to hobble forward with his hand pressed to his chest (a wound, Silver imagined, but where had the Pokemon gotten it from?). The pink-haired sixteen year-old didn't even look to see if people were following him, though the younger girls did so.

Silver gave Yue and Zila a measured look. "Coming?"

There was a long pause; then Zila sighed, a defeated sound, and said, "Guess we have no choice." He ambled after them, hands folded behind his head, and Silver caught a flash of a muzzle-like nose covered in fine white fur as he turned his head to observe the scenery around them.

Yue fell into step with Silver quite effortlessly, her steps sure and precise; further evidence of her training, the Minccino noted. "So," she said. "Can I ask why you're traveling with girls younger than you?"

"I don't know, can I ask why an Assassin like you is trying to get to the Temple of Kyurem?" Silver replied seamlessly, shooting her a wry look when she remained silent. "Yeah, I thought so. Let's just keep to ourselves until everyone gets comfortable, hm?"

Yue quirked an eyebrow, and he could tell he'd scored some points with her. "A good idea, I suppose," she agreed, adding, "I won't question it."

* * *

**Credits:**

Niko **is **Raven Kat**'s OC.**

James** is mine. So is **Vee**.**

Nero** belongs to **BladeOfTheEclipse**.**

Xander** belongs to **AtmosBreak**.**

Rein** is **Silverdragon98**'s OC.**

Spark** comes from **Tisuro**.**

Silver** is from **BalancedHex1232**.**

Pepper** is **xXViridianPhoenixXx**'s OC.**

Yue** is from **xiLovePandas**.**

Zila** comes from **TheGlaceonFanatic**.**

Hikaru** is from **Nightfall00**.**

**Note: ****OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**


	5. 4 - Reunions

**Chapter 4, or Reunion.**

**Edit 1/19/13: Man, I'm on a roll, editing these things. Anyway, fixed typos, edited some stuff, the biggest thing being the color of Rhy's clothes...**

******Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**

**If I owned Pokemon I would be able to tell you just how old Ash is, which I can already because he's eternally ten – nevertheless, I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

There was a collective sigh of relief as they tromped out of the cave and Hearthome City became visible, the noise of the lively town reaching their ears from even their distance.

"I wonder how Rhy and Luco and Nightingale are doing," Vee remaked out loud. She had recovered quite well from her 'mental experience', as Rein was beginning to call it, and was floating lazily besides the Mightyena.

"Better than us," Xander grumbled, and he snapped out a wing, attempting to smack her with it. The Shedinja merely rolled out of the way, her movement languid and slow. Rein could tell she was being careful not to overexert herself, for normally she would have snapped out of the way and landed an attack besides.

Rein chanced a quick glance at the motley group behind her. Nero had deep circles under his one visible eye, indicating he hadn't slept well (_nightmares again_, Rein thought to herself), while Xander looked slightly ruffled as always. Vee, though – she was adamantly avoiding talking about her history and, after hearing he had carried her, was teasing Nero almost constantly. The Gallade never gave her a response, perhaps due to his obvious exhaustion and, though hardly apparent, discomfort at that whole situation, but even so the Shedinja continued to pester him.

"Okay, guys, time to shut up," Rein told them as they approached the city gates. Xander and Vee, who had been arguing yet again, obediently fell silent as they walked. There were two weary guards Rein recognized on duty, and she greeted them with a simple "Good morning." They responded with tired smiles, and they waved her and her crew past the gates.

"The usual place?" Xander asked Rein as they entered the main street, bustling with an impossible number of Pokemon. Hearthome wasn't unaffected by the war by any means, but it was by far the most hospitable town in the entire region. Pokemon had moved here upon hearing there was less violence in hopes of raising their children more peacefully; as such, there was much more firepower situated in the one city alone than in the entire countryside in the southwest.

There was a sharp whistle near them, and the four turned, recognizing it immediately. All Rein could see was a familiar shock of crimson hair, slicked back and fanning out behind the person's head; then the person darted into the crowd, and without hesitation the four quickly followed, relying on Vee, who had the advantage of seeing above the crowd, to lead them to where the Pokemon was going.

Vee stopped them once they had reached an unsuspecting apartment building, the morning crowd more subdued at the location, and said, "I think he went around here."

"You mean he's inside or he's 'around here'?" Xander asked, using his gloved fingers to indicate quotation marks. Vee shrugged helplessly, mumbling something incomprehensible under her breath, and Xander turned to Rein. "Can you smell him anywhere?"

She sniffed once and then almost instantly gave him a quick shake of her head. "Hell no, there's too many people. Besides, you know how much of a douche Nightingale is; almost no one can ever track him unless he _wants_ you to find him, the asshole."

"Seriously," the Swellow grumbled, his tone frustrated. Rein was inclined to agree as he muttered, "we're on the same side and everything, for Arceus' sake. It's not like we're going to be doppelgangers with commands to infiltrate the Flame Riders by an Order or something."

"Looks who's using big words," Vee teased, and Xander grinned as he once again attempted to whack her with his wing. It hit, but instead of sending her flying it instead went right through her body, as it hadn't been an actual Wing Attack. "Advantages to being a Ghost-type," she laughed, and the sound was so infectious that even Rein couldn't hold back a small smile.

Nero chose the lull in the conversation to cough quietly into his fist. He instantly gained everyone's attention, and the three turned to look at him as he pointed to the building next to the one they were standing at. He proceeded to a sort of "that way" gesture with his hand, though his hand was flopping and the motion itself wasn't very enthusiastic. Almost immediately said hand fell to his side, absently tucking itself into one of his pockets.

"You should've shown us sooner," Rein said, amused, as she pushed past the many Pokemon around them; even side streets like this were packed full of people. "Honestly, Nero, you're the one with the fucking psychic powers here."

She heard, rather than saw, the Gallade shrug, just as she caught a whiff of a familiar scent. "This way," she said, shouldering her way toward where the smell had come from. "I have no fucking idea what he's doing, but I think he went into that alley down there."

"I'll take a look," Xander said, snapping out his wings before looking back over at the Gallade, yellow eyes twinkling with mischief as he asked a little too sweetly, "A little help, Nero?"

The Gallade rolled his eyes and flicked a finger, a disdainful look on his face. Psychic energy encircled the Swellow, and soon he was up enough in the air for the Flying-type to safely take off without hitting any civilians. He didn't fly up too high, just a bit below the usual airways (which Rein noticed had few Flying-types at the moment), before calling down something none of them quite heard.

Then it was Vee's turn to roll her eyes. She floated up to the Swellow, listening to what he had to say before coming back down. "He's by the hospital," she told Rein and Nero, and without a word the two of them took off down the roads, knowing the city like the back of their hands. The Shedinja and Xander followed both of them from above.

As promised, the crimson-haired boy was waiting for them, a smirk on his face. "Took you long enough," he called to them, holding what looked to be a cone of Pecha berry ice cream in his hand. Rein gave the cold treat a long look; the Weavile was addicted to the stuff, always eating it whenever he wasn't doing anything, which was often (which should be read as _always_). "Almost thought I lost you for once, too."

"And that's great," Rein told him, and his smirk widened at her irritated tone. "Where's Rhy and Luco?"

The Weavile grinned all the wider, blood-red eyes glittering and sharp teeth showing. Muscles rippled under his simple black T-shirt as he shrugged, the fine gray fur all over his body fluctuating as he did so. "Probably back at the base," he said, and then took a lick of his ice cream before adding, "I just happened to be on an errand and saw you."

"And by errand, he means a trip to the ice cream vendor," Xander corrected as he swooped down and landed hard on his feet. If it were anyone but him, they would've broken their ankles, but the Swellow performed that kind of landing so often his legs were used to the strain.

"Bloody fantastic," Rein snapped as Vee then landed on the ground besides her, tapping Nero's shoulder; he jerked to awareness, glancing down quickly at the Shedinja before looking away. Rein heard rather than saw this happen. "Would you show us to them already, dumbass?"

He placed his free hand over his heart, a pout on his face. "You wound me." Then he hissed in pain when she reached out and her hand clamped onto the hand holding his ice cream cone, fire flickering on her fingertips. "Okay, okay! Calm down, little miss everything-must-happen-right-away. Follow me."

He began to walk – if one could even describe it as a walk, the movement was so fluid and graceful, one black boot effortlessly gliding in front of the other, that the action deserved its own verb – toward the same apartment they had left. Vee and Xander were arguing and failed to notice that she and the Weavile were leaving, and though the Gallade was exhausted Rein doubted he would miss the crucial detail. No worries, he would track her aura and lead the others to her once they realized what was going on.

Once they arrived at the apartment once more, Nightingale gave her a mocking bow at the entrance, somehow managing to continue to eat his ice cream as he did so. "Ladies first," he said snarkily, and it took a great deal of effort for her to resist knocking his frozen treat to the ground.

As soon as she entered she knew that this building was different from the rest. It looked exactly the same on the inside, she knew, with the stairs and probably broken elevators, but the feeling was completely different; the air was heavier, almost, and the tension was remarkably high. She was fairly certain this building was an abandoned one, though why she didn't know.

Nightingale was right behind her, running a hand through his fan-like crimson hair, tossing his frozen treat into the overflowing trash can without finishing it. Rein chanced a look; it was full of ice cream cones, the only things that appeared to be thrown into it. "They're upstairs."

She shot him a dirty look. "Want to get them for me?"

He grinned again and shoved his fingers into the pockets of his red-streaked black jeans, his razor-sharp claws peeping out of the holes he had made there so much earlier. "Naw, I think you can do it yourself, Speaker of Rayquaza. 'Sides, who knew what Luco would do to me if I disturbed his oh-so-important beauty sleep."

As he said this the other three Riders came in, with Nero at the lead and Vee at the tail. The Shedinja immediately peeled off the group to stand next to Nightingale, where they immediately began to converse about something Rein could not quite follow (it included lots of exclaiming and "I know right?" and excited hand motions). Xander stretched his arms, leaning back on his heels and the motion pulling the hem of his black leather jacket above his waist, while Nero continued to doze on his feet.

Taking a deep breath and fully intending to startle everyone merely because she felt like it, Rein yelled, "Rhy! Luco! Get your asses here before I send Nightingale up there!"

There was an immediate reaction in the form of a pale teen floating through one of the walls, ghostly dark blue-green robes trailing out behind him. He looked her over and gave her a nod before straightening out his legs and placing his bare feet on the ground, though he had no need to walk as he was a Ghost-type. "Reinforce," he greeted in a soft yet authoritative voice. "Good to see you made it in one piece."

She grimaced at the use of her real name, saying, "For the last time, Rhy, don't call me that. It's _Rein_." She then briefly glanced back at her motley crew. "You'd be surprised how fucking hard it was to get here, actually," she told him, and she jerked her head in Nightingale's direction as she added, "Why is a dumbass like him a Flame Rider again?"

"You wound me," the Pokemon in question called out once again, cupping one hand around his mouth while the other became a fist against his chest. He and Vee snickered before continuing their conversation about – ice cream, apparently. Rein should have guessed, especially since the Weavile was waving his arms about in a remarkably animated manner.

The Misdreavus gave her the Look, the one that said _be patient_ and the one that he gave her quite often. She huffed but didn't respond. It was Xander who asked, "So where's Luco?"

"Sleeping, I imagine," Rhy replied, clasping his hands neatly in front of him, pink irises calm and expressionless. That was usually Rhy's demeanor, a soft, quiet presence once could always count on to be there when one needed him most. "He was helping out at the hospital all night yesterday – it seems the fighting is drawing ever nearer to Hearthome."

Rein grimaced, again, at the last part while Xander said jokingly, in an effort to lighten the mood, "I'm surprised he managed to stop ogling the pretty girls enough to actually do work."

Rhy gave the Swellow a small smile, one that asserted his superiority but showed he understood and found it slightly amusing at the same time. It was one of the Misdreavus' various skills, which was probably why he was the leader of the Flame Riders. "When it comes to it, Lucas is very capable of working hard."

"You know he prefers Luco, Rhy," Vee scolded halfheartedly before returning to her argument. Rhy gave the slightest shrug, the movement causing his blue-green robes to ripple in the air.

"Do you really think we should we let him sleep?" Rein asked, one eyebrow raised. "Surely he can spare a few minutes to at least say hello."

Rhy nodded, wisps of light, blond hair drifting near his eye. "He has been asleep for many hours. Sleet, if you would please wake him up…"

"For fuck's sake, it's Nightingale, not Sleet. And why me?" the Weavile complained, breaking off the conversation with Vee to address his leader. "I'm too tired. I just led them here. Can't I take a break?"

Rhy's irises glowed for a moment, and suddenly the Weavile staggered and the ghost seemed to regain some color, though he was still alarmingly pale. "Pain Split," the Misdreavus said with that same, small smile, and Rein shivered at the cold look in his pink eyes. "Do not try my patience."

"Why do you always have to use it when you're more tired than I am?" Nightingale whined, but nevertheless, he bounded up the stairs two at a time and disappeared from view. Shortly afterwards, a surprisingly girlish screech of fury was heard, and the Weavile was scampering own the stairs, a smirk on his face and red eyes glittering with amusement as he skidded to stop next to Vee.

Rein heard him say, "I still think Pecha berry ice cream is better," to which Vee replied, "Honestly, Nightingale, you need to get out more – Bluk berry ice cream is delicious, plus it stains your mouth blue!" Xander added some input as well, and soon it was a three-way argument, with Rhy watching expressionlessly and Rein covering her ears. And then Luco, in all his just-woke-up ruffled glory, practically fell down the stairs, light blue eyes unfocused and glazed over, blue hair streaked with white a rat's nest.

Rhy used Reflect at the last moment, preventing the lumbering Pachirisu from falling over, as he said in a smooth voice, "Good afternoon, Lucas."

"It's Luco, Rhy; honestly, you've known me for years," the Pachirisu replied and he rubbed his eyes and then combed his hand through his hair. Sparks jumped from the strands into his fingers, and he shook them off his hands, the electricity skittering on the ground before being absorbed by the carpet. Rein made a mental note not to rub her feet against the floor should she start walking.

When Luco finally looked up his eyes immediately went to Rein, as she had predicted, his irises gliding over her body, pausing at her stomach where her tank top stopped short, allowing him to see her flesh. "You must be the reason men fall in love, Rein," he said with a lopsided grin as he met her hard red eyes.

"You can stop with the pick-up lines," she replied, crossing her arms and shifting so most of her weight was on one leg, the other foot tapping impatiently. "You should've figured out by now it won't work."

Luco, quickly sensing the Mightyena was a lost cause, then shifted his attention to Vee – only to find her supporting the bulk of Nero's weight as the Gallade keeled over, literally asleep. She gave Rhy a sheepish grin as she explained, "He's really tired. I don't suppose you have a bed somewhere?"

"There's one upstairs," Nightingale said helpfully. When he didn't make a move to illustrate where said bed actually was, Vee glared and he added hastily, "Come with me, I'll show you where it is."

Vee shook Nero slightly, to which he bolted to awareness, fully prepared to unleash a Psychic attack; seeing where he was, though, or rather who was supporting him, he calmed down and allowed Vee to half-drag him up the stairs as Nightingale led the way.

Luco peered after them, one eyebrow quirked, while Xander had watched the scene play out with silent amusement; after exchanging a glance with Luco he then asked Rein, "Did something remind him of his dad again, for him to have nightmares?"

"I have no idea," Rein said with a shrug. "Vee probably knows – you know how she's closer to him than the rest of us." She flicked her red eyes over to Rhy. "But in any case, you have any plans, oh grand leader? There has to be reason you call us all the damn way to Hearthome."

Rhy nodded, slightly translucent toes digging into the fabric of the carpet – though in reality, his ghostly flesh simply passed through the floor. "We need to go to Veilstone," he said. "The Order will need our expertise to get through the fighting with minimum losses on both sides."

"Why them and not the Order of Kyurem?" Luco asked, inching toward Rein slowly but surely. As soon as he was within arm's length her arm snapped out and she punched him square in the jaw. Xander laughed silently while Rhy gave her a disapproving look as Luco staggered to the side, hand cradling his unmarked face.

"The Order of Kyurem chose to attack the Order of Arceus," Rhy said haltingly after a moment, though as always he immediately gained everyone's attention. "It would be pointless to help them shut down the religion native to Sinnoh, would you not agree?"

Rein was quiet for a moment before nodding assent. It was Xander who said cautiously, though, "Vee really dislikes the Speaker of Arceus."

"I know."

Xander persisted despite what the Misdreavus said. "'Cause, you know, she and Nico go way back - "

"I am aware, Alexander," Rhy interrupted, softly, with a trace of sadness, though why Rein couldn't fathom. "Victory will have to manage, which I am confident she will."

"Victory?" Luco asked, now raising both eyebrows. That was his reaction whenever someone said Vee's real name, mostly because it was just a weird name in general, in his self-declared Extremely Important Opinion. Rein kicked his shin with her boot and he fell silent, his expression becoming more neutral.

"Rhy, please, can't you just call us by our nicknames? We prefer them," Xander said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. "And no doubt Vee will throw a fit if you call her that. You know how she is."

"Indeed. My apologies." Rhy looked up, pink eyes focused on nothing, as he mused, "I was hoping we could leave immediately, but it is obvious Nero needs to rest. We will leave once he awakens."

"Great, more fucking walking," Rein grumbled, before asking, "I don't suppose you'd know some dump around here where I can make hot guys stutter and trip over themselves?"

"You aren't tired?" the Misdreavus asked, clasping his hands loosely in front of him. Then he gave her an amused smile as he observed, "I suppose I should not be surprised."

Rein flashed the Speaker of Mew a grin as Luco said, "There's a club along one of the shadier streets, but nothing really goes down until nighttime. You could still go, though, if you wanted."

"Honestly, I don't know how you find that fun," Xander added, confused but also sort of thinking it was funny. When she gave him a reproachful look he smiled and shrugged, adding, "Luco's right, though, I did see some sort of club down the road. So if you want to make hot guys act like morons, be my guest."

Rein smirked; Xander knew her quite well, not to mention that she and Vee could laugh about it for hours. "Cool. I'll be back in a few hours. Later, bitches."

"Language," Rhy said absently, and pointedly ignored her when she flipped him the bird.

"Whoa, wait, let me come with you," Luco said, trotting up to catch up with her. "I can show you were it is and then I can get to work at the hospital again."

"Noble of you," Rein said with something that was a mix between a smirk and a genuine smile. "So long as you don't touch my ass or anything, feel free to come along."

"Sweet." The Swellow and the Misdreavus watched them exit as Vee floated down the stairs.

The blonde looked between them for a few moments; then she said, "Nightingale went up to the roof. Should I be concerned?"

"No," Xander said, turning to her. "All that's up there is an umbrella and a chair." At Rhy's look he shrugged and said, "Hey, when you fly, there's some things you don't miss, you know?"

"How is Nero doing?" the Misdreavus asked a moment later, turning to Vee. The Shedinja shrugged, the universal sign for 'all right, I guess' and he sighed. "It appears we have quite a wait before us."

* * *

They finally made it as the sun was setting, and just as they entered the city gates, they saw a party of Pokemon leaving opposite them.

Zila pointed them out. "I know the Misdreavus," he said as said person looked behind his shoulder, a soft, gentle movement accompanied with startlingly sharp pink eyes. "His name is Rhyne, and he's at least one hundred years old – he's been the Speaker of Mew for ages and almost no one knows him."

"Why?" Pepper asked, interested, as the six of them surged forward through the evening traffic, trying to catch up to the other party. She grimaced at the burning in her legs, secretly grateful for the Silver's supporting hand on her shoulder.

"Because the Disciplines of Articuno, Zapdos and Moltres are very secretive," Yue interrupted, supporting some of Hikaru's weight as the Accelgor hobbled along. Pepper could tell his chest was hurting him when they sped up, though she didn't know why and she couldn't see why either, for he kept his hand pressed flat against it. "In order to train in the Order, you have to go to the Temple and, if you're found trustworthy, you get to meet the Speaker. Maybe."

"Most haven't," Spark said, in a rare moment of maturity. "The Disciplines – you know, the ones guarding the Temple back in the forest by Twinleaf – don't tell us Servants of Mew much. They're great fighters, though, and they're absolutely destructive when there's a Discipline from all three branches at the same place."

"Really?" Here Silver finally looked interested. "Their fighting abilities compliment each other?"

Spark nodded, and even Hikaru looked faintly interested. "You know the rumors as well as anyone – the Order of Mew has the strongest warriors, especially when working together. I can tell you firsthand that it's true."

"You _sparred_ with them?" Yue asked, shocked. She stumbled slightly when Hikaru tripped, though she quickly got him to his feet again and continued, "How are you still alive?"

Spark grinned, brushing long brown hair behind her ear. "I have my ways." Silver snorted at that but didn't elaborate when the others shot him questioning glances.

"You're not looking too good," Pepper told Hikaru helpfully after a brief pause, in which they continued to push through the crowd though it was a losing battle, but the Accelgor didn't even react. The blonde looked over to Yue and Zila, who were both giving the Pokemon concerned looks after her comment. "Maybe we should stop at the hospital."

"We'll lose them," Silver pointed out, gesturing to the place the Misdreavus and crew had disappeared to. He looked over at Spark, whose lips were twisted into a faint scowl at his words. "You're okay with that?"

"My feet hurt," Zila added, earning him mixed looks from the others. He shrugged, black cloak still (Silver had explained it was an illusion, which Pepper found odd; the Zoroark could just wear clothes like the rest of them, couldn't he?), and said sheepishly, "I don't –pardon me, _didn't_ – get out that much, you know. No need to exercise so much."

"What? Why? You're an Assassin." Spark was forever the master of condescension, it seemed, and Zila shot her an irritated glare.

"To make a long story short," he said haughtily, after a brief pause, "I'm not an Assassin, I'm a Warrior of Genesect. I'm an _experiement_."

All three youngster's mouths made an 'O' shape, though it was Silver who found his voice first and asked, "Really?" Zila nodded. "That's - could you tell us - "

"That's enough," Yue interrupted, and the three, sensing the conversation was over, fell silent. The Arcanine exhaled loudly through her nose and abruptly changed direction, aiming for where she knew was the hospital. Pepper and the rest trailed after her. "We'll go the Center and rest up. Does anyone have any idea where they're going?"

Yue paused when Hikaru removed his arm from her shoulders and, with her support, reached down to his pocket, removing a small black book. Pepper watched with interest as his other hand moved away from his chest and he extracted a pencil from – his sleeve, she wasn't sure, actually, but anyway, his hand's absence revealed a sizable wound. It look remotely like frostbite, and though she couldn't be certain, she was pretty sure Zila, with those ice abilities she had seen previously, had something to do with it.

After a long moment Hikaru began to write, his hand moving rapidly down the page. As soon as he was finished the pencil disappeared and Yue peered over to read what he had written. At her nod he tucked it back into his pocket and the hand went back over his chest, the other over her shoulder, wincing all the while.

"Hikaru says that since they're the Flame Riders, they'd want to prevent the most fighting as possible," Yue explained to the others as soon as they were moving again. "Since they aren't going south they're not aiming for the Order of Kyurem; instead, they're aiming for the Order of Arceus."

"That's a good thing," Zila said with a snort, and Pepper could see his yellow irises flash under the darkness of his hood. "Just imagine if we had to go back to the place we had just left."

"How about not," Yue suggested, "seeing as if we did we'd probably get killed, and I can imagine thousands of ways that it would be terrible?"

This sobered the mood somewhat and the six made the rest of the journey to the hospital in silence. Upon arriving, Silver volunteered to find someplace for them to stay, and Zila and Spark opted to go with him; Pepper, knowing that she probably knew her way around hospitals better than Yue, decided to stay with the Arcanine and the Accelgor.

The Electivire led Yue to the front desk, who by now was mostly dragging Hikaru along, and was the one who spoke, her tone polite. "Our friend here has frostbite, I think. Do you have any Ice Heals we could use?"

"South wing," the nurse said, waving a hand, and Pepper immediately went down one of the hallways – this hospital was pretty much like the one back home, thankfully, though much, much bigger. Yue trailed after her, eyeing the white walls with a cautious eye, while Hikaru let out a faint hiss in pain each time he lurched forward.

"Here we are," Pepper said as they stopped at a pair of doors, and Yue gave her a nod in thanks when the blonde held the door open for them.

Almost immediately a Blissey was upon them, examining Hikaru with a critical eye and swatting his hand away from his wound despite his obviously not wanting to reveal it. "Frostbite," she said snippily, grabbing the Accelgor by the shoulders and steering him forcefully to a chair. Yue and Pepper stationed themselves near him. "Just a moment."

The Arcanine was taking all the constant action in with an unreadable expression on her face; then she leaned over and asked, "Is it always like this?" Her orange-red eyes flicked from side-to-side, and Pepper could understand her discomfort. The entire room was white, with Blisseys and Chanseys darting around everywhere and the occasional stretcher being wheeled in and out. There were Pokemon with minor injuries scattered everywhere. "Are nurses supposed to act that way?"

"It's really busy here," Pepper murmured back, hands clasped in front of her. "If you're not mortally wounded then they'll get you out as soon as possible. They've other patients who need more care than people with wounds like Hikaru."

This sobered Yue instantly, and even Hikaru seemed to relax some, though Pepper couldn't see his eyes as his pink hair shadowed the top half of his face. The Blissey returned shortly with a small spray bottle in hand. She expertly sprayed what was probably an Ice Heal on the wound, and though Pepper was certain it stung like heck, Hikaru was silent, showing no reaction other than a slight shudder as the liquid was absorbed by his skin.

"He'll be fine by tomorrow," the Blissey said shortly, and she moved off as another group of people burst in.

"Tomorrow?" Yue said, obviously annoyed, as she helped Hikaru to his feet again, Pepper flitting nearby. Without a word the three of them exited the room as Yue muttered, "Since when did Ice Heals work so slowly?"

"Since when did one allow frostbite to go untreated for who knows how long?" Pepper was quick to snap back, and then she covered her mouth with two perfectly manicured nails, a small smirk on her face. Yue and Hikaru both looked startled at her outburst, turning their heads to look at her, and she gave them a sweet smile before brushing ahead with a murmured "follow me".

Yue and Hikaru started after her a few seconds late, and she didn't miss the Arcanine whisper, "Silver was right, she does have a dark side somewhere in all that goodness." She also didn't miss the grunt of agreement Hikaru graced his companion with. For the most part, she was surprised her Minccino friend had told the Arcanine anything at all.

Pepper allowed herself a faint smile as they exited the building to the rapidly darkening streets. Silver was waiting, and at her expression (he knew it quite well at this point in their lives) he gave her a look that said _I hope you behaved_ before addressing the other two with a curt "This way."

She padded after them as they began to walk, already savoring the feeling of being in a bed.

* * *

"Enter."

Niko eyed the Assassin of Shaymin as he entered the room. The kid looked barely sixteen – _he's probably fifteen, actually_ _– _and had chosen dubious attire, seeing as he was decked out completely in camo and the dark green color clashed violently with his flaming red hair.

It was funny that Niko had never met this Assassin, who simply went by Blade and was by far one of the best agents in the history of the branch of Shaymin. He simply did not have time to connect to all field agents, instead opting to converse with the top agents of each branch. Though this kid pulled close second, he was not the first and thus no concern of Niko.

Until now, that is.

"Blade, I presume," Niko said, voice flat and expressionless. The Scizor across from him matched his Speaker's demeanor, his green eyes cold and his already-thin lips pressed into a narrow line. "Are you aware of why you are here?"

"No, sir, though I am honored to be graced with your presence." Prompt, precise, holding just a tinge of caution and cockiness. _Well-trained_, Niko thought, _very much like a soldier_. Perhaps the outfit the Assassin wore was not entirely misleading.

"Very well then." He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands neatly in front of him, resting them on his desk. "I have heard you are one of the best Assassins in the branch of Shaymin. Is this true?"

"That's what they tell me, sir." The boy's tone wasn't modest, but it wasn't exactly haughty, either, something Niko could admire. "And with all due respect, if you're looking for _the_ best, I'm afraid you have the wrong person, sir."

Niko flapped a dismissive hand at that, not giving the boy any points for trying to get some pity. "It matters not. She is busy at the moment." He leaned forward on his desk, ignoring the papers stacked haphazardly on his left – and right, too, now that he actually felt the need to notice. "I have a job for you."

"And I would be happy to perform it for you, sir."

The Pachirisu's eyebrow arched upward an almost imperceptible distance; not only was the boy well-trained, but he was incredibly loyal – so loyal it was almost to a degree of stupid, at least if Niko was reading the boy's tone correctly. "I'm happy to hear that."

A small quirk of the boy's lips pulled at the scar on the right side of his face, and it faded as quickly as it had come. "Likewise, sir."

The eyebrow went up slightly further. "I need you to memorize this information – unlike previous missions, you will not be given a paper, you understand."

"Yes, sir."

Here was the interesting part, Niko thought, and he said, "You must hunt down and attempt to kill the Flame Riders."

The response, to his surprise, was immediate, without a trace of doubt or fear. He really was loyal to a fault. "Yes, sir."

_He's going to accept it just like that?_ "We do not know of their people, whereabouts, or strengths. It will be difficult for you to find them."

"Not really a problem, sir." The way he said this assured Niko that, in all honesty, it wouldn't. "When do I begin?"

"As soon as possible."

The sharp face of the youth across from him opened into a cruel smile – a trademark of most Assassins, Niko had learned quickly enough. "Will do, sir." Without even waiting for a dismissal the Scizor was gone, flashing out of the door so quickly papers stirred at his sudden absence.

Niko chuckled to himself for a moment before composing his features and then calling out, "You may enter now."

Another Assassin entered, but this time, it was one he was familiar with. Her red hair was just as fiery in color as Blade's, he couldn't help noticing, but it was tied back into a ponytail, accenting her bright blue eyes and muzzle-like nose. "Nina," he greeted with a smile.

"Greetings, Speaker." Per usual, the Ninetales was all business and quickly got to the point. "Whatever you told Blade back there's got him all excited. What's going on?"

"I gave him a special task, one that I would normally give to you. But," he said quickly at her annoyed expression, "the mission I have for you is far more important."

At this he was rewarded with a small smile, fangs sharp as always. He was inwardly relieved; Nina could easily tear him to pieces if she so chose and he thanked Arceus once again that she was on his side. "I'm listening, Niko."

"It may sound degrading, but believe me, it is of vital importance."

"Thanks for the warning." She stared him down, her blue eyes hardening. "Now tell me what I'm supposed to do, sir."

He took a breath and exhaled briefly before speaking. "Follow Blade. Record his actions. Report to me." She was already looking annoyed but her expression morphed to one of doubt as he added, "and when the time strikes, kill all the Flame Riders."

"Are you sure that's the best course of action?" Here she had her hands on her hips. "The Flame Riders are rumored to be riding here to help us; surely killing them would be pointless."

"I have my reasons," Niko replied flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. "And while I would adore explaining them to you, time is limited. Blade distances himself as we speak."

"Niko, what exactly made you think I can't find the Flame Riders as well as he can?" Nina asked, irritated, though she knew a dismissal when she heard one and was going towards the door.

"He has experiences you do not," Niko said after a pregnant pause, and didn't speak again despite Nina waiting with her hand on the knob. After sending a scowl in his direction the door opened and closed softly, and he was alone once more.

Niko briefly considered throwing a tantrum just to make the feeling in his gut go away – he was holding back so much emotion, anger and fear and sadness, but mostly fear – but decided against it when he saw the latest reports submitted to him by James.

Back to work, he told himself, and back to work he went.

* * *

Oriole was sitting behind the desk when he burst in, brown hair in disarray, pale blue eyes wide, his shirt only half-buttoned and showing off what would be described as _way_ too much skin.

"Polen," she began, keeping her eyes carefully focused on his face, "what – "

"It's me," he interrupted, hands fumbling with his buttons, shifting from foot to foot. "Speaker, it's me. He – Kyurem – he – " Here he made some sort of hand gesture that didn't help comprehension at all, abandoning his pale blue shirt entirely. At least he said, with a tone of finality, "Speaker of Victini, it's _me_."

Oriole made the connection after a few moments, jumping to her feet and slamming her hands on the desk. "You're not kidding, are you?" she asked, fear worming in her stomach. Why Polen, why did Kyurem choose _Polen_ of all people…?

"No, no, I wouldn't lie about this," Polen responded, his voice shaking slightly. "I – I don't want – why me? I'm not suited for this, I'm not – "

Oriole took a deep breath, walking out from behind the desk and placing her hands on Polen's thin shoulders, staring up into his pale blue eyes, searching for lies. "You're sure?"

"He scared the shit out of me," Polen whispered, ceasing to button up his shirt and now sliding his hands into his blue denim pockets. "I don't want to do this, Speaker."

"You have no choice," Oriole said softly, pulling away from him, sensing that he wasn't kidding – his breath was icy against her face, him being a Glalie and all. "It's your duty."

It was the first and last time she had ever seen the Pokemon across from her show anything other than a sneer or smirk – for now, he looked ready to burst into tears.

_Being Speakers is not as great as it was made out to be._

* * *

Nightingale** is… lessee. He's **SparkLuxLucios**'s OC.**

Rhy** belongs to **stelladog0090**.**

Luco** come from** AshKetchumDarkSide**.**

Blade **is the creation of **Flash3**.**

Nina **is **KCNederand**'s OC.**

**Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**


	6. Extra: Holiday Special

**Holiday special, written because I feel like it, plus it has a purpose. Had to guess on a lot of back stories, though, given how little history I received from some. Hope you find satisfactory… you know who you are, I think…**

**I used all real names merely because I need to get people to know everyone's real names, so. If it makes it easier, the order with nicknames is as follows:**

**Silver – Pepper – Spark – Oriole – Zila - Yue – Hikaru – Blade – Nina – Vee – Nero – Xander – Rhy – Rein - Luco - Nightingale**

**If anyone does not celebrate Christmas, my apologies – I don't either, but it's easier for me to write about it because it's an important night of peace and thanks most can relate to.**

**Also, be warned: the next chapter contains OC death. I feel bad for leaving you all in suspense, wondering if it's your OC who will die – but be patient. It will be updated soon.**

**I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

The holidays always left a bitter taste in his mouth, for it was always this time of year that he really missed his parents.

… Well, not _missed_, he supposed. He had never known them anyway. It was more like – more like he wondered who they were. And… wondering why they had abandoned him instead of raising him.

It was nice that Twinleaf was so quiet. It gave him the opportunity to think, as he settled himself onto the armchair. It was quiet in the backroom. Usually it was full of kids, playing with the toys and pestering him or avoiding him, but today, they were in the front hall with the fire and the tree, singing and laughing and having fun.

Without him, of course. No one cared about him, even when it was December 24th.

He was by himself, then, just like every other Christmas Eve. From a young age until he was six he didn't even know there was something called Christmas. It wasn't until he was taken in by this orphanage last year that he had even known there were days and months and that there was a year, too.

So really, until last year, he had never celebrated Christmas. He had always been alone. So why should he change traditions now?_ It's not like anyone cares…_

No one liked him too much. He was different, and spoke more harshly than the others, and was possessive of the few objects he had, and was 'far too bloody clever for it to be natural' in the words of the matron.

But mostly, he was different, completely at ease in the forest and the wilderness no matter the temperature. He was smart, and mature, and manipulative when it got down to it, and most of the time got his way because it was obvious his way was the best way. Period.

So… he was always alone. He would always be alone. With a soft sigh he brought his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees, fingers curling around his bare toes to keep them warm.

Why did no one talk to him? Why didn't the Gible girl, the one who was only two years younger and second oldest after him in this orphanage, talk to him? Or why did the Elekid? She was three years younger, third oldest.

Actually, now that he thought about it, the Gible girl never talked to anyone. Nor did the Elekid. They were always detached and quiet, just like he was, whenever mealtimes came around.

But they were in the other room right now with the other kids. Having fun, unlike him.

It was going to be a long night, listening to the laughter in the other room, the happiness, the joy. They would be happy, and he would be sad, eventually going to his room and crying himself to sleep.

_Why can't I be like the rest of them?_

…

_Hex, age 9_

* * *

She didn't really remember her parents, actually. The holidays only brought up vague pictures – she was pretty sure her father was an Electivire, just like she would be one day, but her mother's image was blurred.

So she didn't really miss them. She kind of felt guilty about that. She should miss them, right? Because she was one of the few orphans here that actually knew her parents. But she didn't. They were just… images. Pictures. People she didn't know or remember, or would recognize on the street.

Still, like every year, she took a little alone time, separating herself from everyone else in order to get some time to think. To think about them, to be precise: the tall figures that were associated with the word "parents". And like every year, the only thing that came up consistently was red, blank eyes, and the feeling of liquid coating her fingers.

She couldn't even remember who had killed her parents in the end. Was it the Order of Arceus, or some agent gone rogue, or some thief or criminal on the run? She looked at her bare fingers through blond strands of hair, blinking rapidly when they suddenly looked to be covered in blood.

She curled herself up on the chair and tucked her hands under her feet, willing the feeling of stickiness to go away.

After a few more moments she figured she should return to the party, but she really couldn't bring herself to move. No one really understood what had happened to her parents, not even the matron, and though her friends made her happy she didn't feel like talking to them. They were all younger anyway.

She shivered at the thought of talking to the Gabite girl, who was a year older – she was fierce and far from understanding and would no doubt bite her head off rather than listen. She couldn't talk to the matron, because while the kindly old lady was wonderful and nice and kind, she wasn't an orphan and didn't understand her.

How many orphans had watched their parents die in front of their eyes, and instead of freaking out, merely killed the offender – without blinking an eye? She had been barely seven and she didn't know she had such bloodlust in her.

She was scared of herself sometimes. She was scared of being with people, in case she killed them – but she was scared of being alone, in case she killed people she didn't know.

No one understood her.

And sometimes, she didn't even understand herself.

…

_Pepper, age 10_

* * *

Fire. Fire everywhere. Flames raining down in sheets, embers burning holes in her clothes, sparks, sparks igniting and bursting into flames, everywhere, everything being consumed by red and heat and warm and orange and – and –

She awakens without preamble, not a scream, not a reaction, not even in a cold sweat. She simply comes to, green eyes blinking open with a slight flutter of her lashes.

But instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, she instead throws off her covers and gets up silently, as to not awaken her roommates. She pads out of the room and down the hallway, past the place where she could hear sniffling, past the place where the matron was snoring, and down the stairs where the fire was crackling in the fireplace and the chairs were warm and the lights soft.

She places herself in front of the dying embers and stared deeply into them. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well uphold her tradition at Christmas.

"Mom," she whispers to herself after taking a few deep breaths, staring into the coals, "Dad. I hope everything is well, wherever you are."

She briefly wonders if only delusional people talked to their parents as if they were still there, even though she knows they were _dead, they were dead, why did they have to die_-

She then rejects the thought and brings her knees to her chest, tucking her chin between the crook of her legs and her fingers stretching out toward the dying fire.

"I think I'm okay with fire now," she says quietly, watching her fingers twitch slightly. Her nails are bitten down to a stub, she realizes with slight detachment. "The matron says when I'm fully evolved fire won't be a big deal anymore. Kind of weird to think, really."

She is quiet for a moment, her hands dropping to her sides, and she then stares at her toes. They, too, are bitten to stubs, to which the matron kept telling her to stop doing as it was 'disgusting and unsanitary'. But she never listens.

She wouldn't listen to anyone ever again. Not until she was sure she could trust them with her life.

"Maybe if I had been stronger back then, it wouldn't be like this," she says softly after a moment, ignoring the smarting feeling behind her eyes. This was the only time of year where she let herself cry, and she wasn't about to stop it. "Maybe if I had been older, I could have woken you up sooner.

"Maybe if I had been quicker, you would both be still alive.

"And maybe if I had been better, we would be living in a home together. Like a real family."

_Not the one in storybooks. Just a family, an ordinary one. A mother and a father, raising their young daughter in a sleepy country town, happy and smiling and in love._

_If I had been stronger, and older, and quicker, and better, then maybe…_she sighs and gazes more deeply into the fire, a single tear sliding down her cheek._ Maybe… I wouldn't be alone._

…

_Crythania, age 11_

* * *

Your name is Oriole, and you are a young Sentret learning the ropes of the International Police under your father's wing.

You are advanced in intelligence. You have physical prowess. You are skilled in the art of lying.

So you definitely aren't stupid.

Thus, when your dad tells you that your mother will be gone for a very long time, you know he's lying, and he knows you know he's lying, and most of all, you know he knows you know he's lying.

So you call him on it, stomping your little Sentret foot in protest and shrieking, hysterically, shrilly, "You're lying! She's never coming back!"

And he sighs, deeply, defeated, before picking you up and hugging him to you. His soft brown hair tickles your nose, but you don't protest, instead burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, musty, herbs, him.

"You're absolutely right, child," he says quietly, his voice reverberating through his body to yours. "She isn't coming back."

The stark truth of these words hit you like a sledgehammer, hard, fast, but you don't start sobbing. You're too strong, mature, jaded for that.

So you don't say anything at all, and he doesn't either, and it's just you and him with you in his arms and him standing in the middle of the hallway. You're both in your own little world, with only him to keep him company, and you snuggle into him as he simultaneously kisses the top of your head.

You don't act immediately when he repeats, "She won't be coming back."

But when you do, you think you take him by surprise. "She's dead, isn't she?"

Naturally, as a high-ranking agent of the International police, he is trained to be stoic and to hide his emotions; so he doesn't show any reaction to your comment, and you don't know if your statement had the desired effect. But then he nods, slowly, the movement causing you to sneeze as strands of his hair caress your nose, and somehow, you know he's not surprised at all. "Yes, child."

Your arms tighten around him, and his around you. He is all you have left, and the training he gives you will help prevent the position that you are currently finding yourself in: motherless.

"I'll work hard, papa."

A hand smoothes down your short brown hair, twining a few strands between the fingers. He says nothing for a long moment, tucking your small, lithe body more comfortably against him as he begins to walk, and for that long moment you wonder if you said the wrong thing.

And then he says the magic words, and you feel perfectly safe and ready for the future.

"I love you."

…

_Oriole, age 8_

* * *

"Merry Christmas, forty-two!"

The Zorua doesn't even bother to look, instead curling up more tightly in the corner, eyes narrowed as he processed the words. Once he has, he pinpoints the date, December 24th. And once he has the date, he realizes who was talking to him.

He reacts accordingly.

"Go _away_, fifty-three."

There is a strangled sound, one that clearly shows him that 53 is offended, but then her footsteps fade and he is alone again.

December 24th holds no value to him. It is simply another day in which he must struggle to survive in the hellhole called the sacred fucking Lab of Arceus. He scowls at the name and stares at the claws that are his toenails, clicking them against the floor for no reason other than to briefly entertain himself.

December 24th does less than hold value to him. It's on the lengthy list of things he hates - near the top. He hates this date with a passion.

It is a day for celebrating, he's been told, a day to remember and to be kind and to enjoy oneself. To have fun, and be nice with others, to receives gifts and to give them.

But mostly, to be happy. It was a day to be happy.

_It's been so long since I've been happy I've forgotten what it feels like_.

The door behind him opens, closes, and the familiar click of high heels fills his eardrums. Instinctively he stands, faces the oncoming threat, shifts his stance slightly to be ready to flee at a moment's notice.

"Time for tests, forty-two," the woman says with a soft smile, and he has to resist the urge to claw her pretty face, to maul it and to cover it with blood, _what right does she have to be happy when we're all miserable_. But as always, he resists the urge, grunts consent and follows as she begins to walk.

They pass other rooms in silence, where other subjects are being tested or operated on or screaming in pain as the scientists studied them. He had grown used to the constant noise by now, but he couldn't repress the shiver as a high-pitched shriek filled the air and left the Lab in complete silence as it faded.

The woman in front of him was unaffected, her steps consistently certain and precise. _Heartless bitch_.

Once they arrive at his testing room, she stops, ushers him in, locks the door behind him. He turns, sees he's by himself in his room, and then there are lights and sounds and chaos everywhere and _what the hell is this what the hell is this what the hell what the hell what the hell -_

"For this test," he could hear the woman over his screams, "We will observe how a dark-type such as yourself reacts to bright lights and loud sounds for an hour."

He didn't want light, or sound, he was darkness and silence and _help me Arceus help me_and his plea was unanswered.

He hates December 24th.

…

_Zila, age 11_

* * *

"She'll never be like us."

_Why can't I?_

"Yeah, she's just some stupid girl living down the street."

_No, I'm not._

"Why isn't she normal like the rest of us?"

_I _am_ normal!_

"She's always burning people."

_I don't mean to_.

"And she always says it's an accident."

_They are, though._

"What a liar."

_I'm not a liar!_

"No kidding. She can't be trusted."

_But why?_

"I know, right? You'd think she'd act more like she's supposed to."

_What do you mean?_

"Yeah, I mean, it's not everyday your dad gets killed by the Order of Arceus."

_Why are they laughing?_

"He must've done something terrible for that to happen."

_That's not true!_

"He probably deserved it."

_No... no..._

"Him and his family both!"

_Stop it!_

"Ha ha, you got that right. That old hag and her daughter should just die already."

_Mother is _not_ an old hag!_

"We could arrange that, you know."

_Why would you be so cruel!_

"You're right. Round up a few of the boys and I bet they'll get onto it like Mightyenas salivating for the next meal."

_They... wouldn't, would they?_

"Do you mean Arcanines?"

_Is that supposed to be funny...?_

"Heh! Good one. 'Cept the girl's a Growlithe."

_That's not funny! It's not funny at all!_

"And - holy shit, she's standing right there. Was she listening the whole time?"

_Oh no, they saw me -_

"Don't even think of running, girl. Stay right there or she'll punch you in the gut."

_No, no, go away, I didn't do anything!_

"Can you believe it's Christmas and she's outside? Arceus, you'd think she'd get the idea for once and stay cooped up in her house!"

_No! Let go of me!_

"Let's teach her a lesson she'll never forget."

_Stop it, stop it, stop it -_

"Heh heh... you go first, since you know some water attacks."

_No!_

"Take this, stupid dog!"

_Just curl up, stay still, don't react, do what Mama said, don't move, don't move -_

"Shit, nothing's happening. This is boring."

_Thank Arceus..._

"Not!"

The only thought in her head was white-hot pain, and soon she was sobbing, clutching her legs to her on the cold ground, tears running on her face. The two girls, a Totodile and a Beautifly, cackled as they turned and began to walked away.

"Merry Christmas, dog!"

She stared after them, red eyes narrowed to slits, a small growl escaping her throat as the pain faded. She forced herself to her feet, staggered, aimed for the Beautifly, breathed in.

_Flamethrower_.

She smirked as the girl screamed in pain, and the other worked to put the flames out. By the time they turned to go after her, she was gone, sprinting back home.

_Merry Christmas to you too, bitches._

…

_Yue, age 12_

* * *

Fitting that this was the day when he would be performing the most important job of his existence.

He stole forward, one foot gliding silently, smoothly in front of the other, green eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Absently he spun a kunai in his palm, tugging his dark scarf up to hide his face before peeking around the corner of the hallway.

Quiet. Shadowed. Absent of life. A few more cautious steps forward, his footsteps silenced by the lush carpeting, and he was a few more steps closer to his target.

His target being, of course, the very same Accelgor that had raised him.

He deserved it, really, he told himself as he tossed the kunai into his other hand before drawing out an actual knife.

The man had forbidden his son from learning the techniques of the ninja – skills that had been passed down in his family for generations.

He had learned them on his own, without permission (permission is overrated in a family of ninjas), but had been caught, eventually. By none other than his grandfather, whose skills were so rusty it embarrassed him to be related to the old man.

Somehow, he had missed the old man's footsteps as they had neared, and by the time he had spun around to confront him (_kill him before he spreads the evidence_) the man was gone.

He'd been locked up in the very halls he was now treading.

That was before he had learned more. Had become strong. Had evolved, finally, after meeting an eager Karrablast willing to go through arduous training. Had become skilled. Had become stealthy.

Had become a ninja.

The door was close. Light sneaked out from underneath. He slowed to a crawl, kunai held between his teeth, one hand placed on the wall, the other holding his knife.

The man – his father – was alone, from what he could hear. A quirk of his lip, the bandages fluttering to make room for the shifting flesh on his face, and then it was gone and the stoic face was back.

Quickly, silently, he opened the door and closed it, ducking behind the nearest furniture when the old ninja spun around to look.

The man's skills were so far below his own that it was laughable. After a moment the man sat back down, cautiously, eyes darting back and forth.

That was when he struck.

All it took was a lunge, a swift cut to the throat, and it was done. He fled the scene out of the window, silent, swift, efficient, and was gone in a matter of seconds.

If one were to ask him now, looking back, about how he felt about the whole experience… the only thing he ever felt about killing his father, he will tell you, is satisfaction.

And if one were to ask him why he did it on Christmas, he would give you a shark's smile, and say, in a quiet, grating voice, _what better time than to do it then?_

_Why_, you might ask.

And he would reply, in a guttural growl, _because the old man deserved it._

…

_Hikaru, age 13_

* * *

When he entered the house that night, gingerly, footsteps light, someone grabbed him immediately by the scruff of the neck. The grip was so tight and sudden he squeaked, instinctively thrashing around the air for the moment before realizing his predicament and remaining still.

"Where were you? Don't you know your father went out to look for you?"

"I'm sorry, ma, I was just – "

"No excuses, Blade. There won't be any supper tonight because he's busy looking for you!" She dropped him on the floor and his hands rose to cradle the back of his neck, where he knew bruises would be forming. "And if he does come back with some, there won't be any for you!"

She turned and walked away, and his sister passed him with a scowl on her face, hissing, "It's always your fault everything bad happens here."

Blade opened his mouth to protest but decided against it, seeing his mother give him a death glare out of the corner of his eye. Instead he looked down, his sister flouncing over to their mother and asking her if she could do anything to help. Not wanting to bear witness to the warmth and kindness his mother showed to his sister, he got to his feet and went to the room that he shared with his sister, throwing himself onto bed and staring up at the ceiling.

Moments later the door opened, closed, and he could hear his father's voice booming out to ask his mother if Blade had returned. When he received assent, he shouted for him, but Blade instead buried himself under his covers, hating the tears sliding down his face.

Why did they always blame him? He had done nothing wrong. He'd gone out on his mother's order to get some food from the market, though after he had bought it he'd been robbed. And when he returned, she had instead blamed him for making his father search for him instead of getting food.

They blamed him for everything.

Even when it wasn't his fault!

His father stormed into the room, ripped off the covers, but by then Blade had his poker face on, face clear of tears and eyes narrowed at the incoming threat. He dodged out of the way of his father's clumsy slash and darted out of the room, the Scizor at his heels.

Screw the fact the holidays were near. Screw the fact that his parents had a delicious meal planned out and a little something for him. They were lying; they never got him anything, and they always doted on his sister.

Screw this life.

When he streaked out of the door and into the night, he felt no regret; rather, he felt a dull sense of pride. And it was pride that kept him barreling forward in the cold days.

_He was going to leave, and that was that_.

…

_Blade, age 12_

* * *

Your name is Nina, and you know that the boys are wolf-whistling at you, not the frilly Skitty girl walking on the other side of the small street.

You have to say, you like the attention.

But when you enter your house with a smirk on your face, your father recognizes it, and without warning he springs up from the table, brushes past you out the door, and yells at the boys to _beat it and don't touch my daughter!_

_Dad_, you complain as he returns inside, a scowl on both of your faces, _it's chill, they weren't going to do anything –_

_I don't care._ That came from your mother, who is leaning on the doorframe as your father sits back down, bristling. _Your safety is priority, Nina_, _at least until you come of age._

You shake your head, glide to the table, and sit, propping your head on your chin. _Yes, mother_, you say with a sigh. Then, after a moment, _Next year, though, you'll let me go on an adventure, right?_

They both nod, though your father hesitates for a long moment before he does.

_We both went on journeys when we were your age_, your mother tells you with a bright smile, one that might be considered feral by those who didn't know her. _That's how we met, remember, dear?_

Your father sighs and nods, giving up on resisting. _Of course, dear_.

You roll your eyes. You've heard the story of their meeting so many times the magic has been lost.

_Mom_, you say, sitting up straight, _will you give me a firestone when that time comes?_

The response is immediate, if a little guarded. _Only if you want it, dear. Remember, once you evolve into a Ninetails, there's no going back._

Your father lets out a choked sound. You love him to death, but his overprotectiveness sometimes gets on your nerves. _Thanks, mom._

Your mother smiles and sweeps out of the room, clucking at your father until he grudgingly gets up to follow. You know they're going to go back to work in the smithy, crafting metal with the help of their Magneton assistant.

You know you don't want to follow their footsteps, no matter how much your father wants you to. You have bigger plans, with paths to follow and mistakes to make and things to do.

You want to join the Order of Arceus, and though you haven't old anyone, you want to enlist as an Assassin. Because you know that a job of espionage and trickery fits you perfectly.

Your name is Nina, and you are the daughter of a blacksmith and his wife.

And next year, when you turn sixteen, you'll be going on an adventure.

...

_Nina, age 15_

* * *

She was young, but she had potential, that much she knew.

She knew she had potential because otherwise, Nero wouldn't have opened up to her, first, instead of everyone else, about his nightmares.

She knew she had potential because otherwise, she wouldn't be the be the one Nightingale had taken an immediately liking to, ever since he had seen her eat a cone of ice cream in record speed, faster than him.

She knew she had potential because otherwise, she and Rein wouldn't be friends, and they would never be discussing cute guys or crazy stunts or 'girl things' in general.

She knew she had potential because otherwise, Luco would still be trying to kiss her and compliment her – after a few brutal physical beat-downs, he had backed off, fortunately.

She knew she had potential because otherwise, Xander wouldn't be there joking around with her as they walked, exchanging half-hearted punches and telling each other dirty jokes. Those were good times.

She knew she had potential because otherwise, Rhy wouldn't have picked her up off the streets all those years ago with an offer she couldn't refuse.

But most of all, she knew she had potential because otherwise, she wouldn't be where she was right now on December 24th: enjoying a nice, spicy Cheri berry drink, with Nero reading quietly at her side and Nightingale jabbering at her from the other. Rein and Luco were arguing, again, probably about something he had said, and Rhy was watching them all with a small smile on his young face, pink eyes bright.

She was happy, even though Cavieh was dead, even though her parents were dead, even though everything had gone wrong in her life.

She was happy, because for once, she knew her entire existence, as a spirit who had somehow become a Shedinja, actually had _purpose_.

She was happy because for once, something had gone right.

She was happy because she had friends, some of them so close she called them brother and sister. They were her family, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

…

_Victory, age 16_

* * *

You must become a Gallade like your father.

You must be a strong fighter, able to punch and kick with enough ferocity to fell your foe no matter how capable they may be.

You must be a powerful psychic, able to bend the minds of others to your will.

You must study hard and know everything there is to know that is important to know.

You can always improve, and will always improve until perfection is reached.

You must be perfect. You must be perfection.

And you _hate_ it. So much. You hate it so much you wish you could twist all those rules into a knot, stomp on it while screaming, and then set it into flames and watch it curl into ashes before your eyes.

Figuratively, you've already tried. And figuratively, you've already failed.

But literally, you have tried to fight against perfection. You don't want to be perfect. Being close enough is good enough, you say, before being beaten down brutally by the Gallade who calls himself your father, whether it be with fists or with words.

Your mother tries to protect you as best she can, kind Gardevoir she is. She is powerful in her own right, able to stand up to your father with ease – but he is clever, oh, he is clever, felling her with a Night Slash before locking her up somewhere in the mansion that is your home.

It has been over a week since you've seen her face, and each time you walked past a locked door you wonder with morbid curiosity if she is wasting away inside.

But it's the day before Christmas. You are hoping for a miracle, and that miracle is to see her again. So you are only half-surprised when you actually see her walking down the hallway.

When she sees you she smiles, picks up your lithe Kirlia body in a hug and twirls around with you in a circle. You smile as she does so, knowing that she is the only source of happiness left. You barely hear what she whispers in your ear:

"You must leave here, Nero. This place is crushing your spirit."

You are surprised by her words but nod as she puts you down, runs a smooth hand through your dark hair, and gives you a gentle smile before moving on. You feel a brief sense of loss as you begin the long walk to the Gallade who calls himself your father's study; how you wish you could stay with her rather than meet him.

Her words ring in your ears as you stop at the door, and right there, you make a decision: you are going to leave this place once you evolve.

And nothing your old man does will stop you.

…

_Nero, age 14_

* * *

Of all days for something to happen, it had to be today.

He had left the house with his mother, who despite the tumor in her stomach, seemed to be doing well and was in stable condition. He hadn't returned all day, having assumed his father would have returned and would care for her.

Since his mother was in such good health, he'd thought about maybe taking some of the best battlers in the region. He wanted to be good, and he was: he was a good fighter despite his small size as a Taillow – but he would evolve soon, and though his speed would decrease his strength would increase.

But when he returned, expecting a good celebration for the holidays, it being December 24th, what he instead found brought his mental abilities to a standstill. The only thing that went through his head was simply this:

_Oh my fucking Arceus_.

His home was in flames.

There were screams, and there were shouts of fear from citizens attempting to put out the flames, but he remained rooted to the spot, his pack falling from lifeless fingers.

His home. _His_ home. It was in flames.

It was on _fire_.

Someone was telling something to him, their voices tinny in his ears. He paid them no heed, frozen to the spot, unable to react or move or even think. His brain moved at a pace so slow he was halfway through thinking _I am thinking so damn slow_ just as the building across from him collapsed.

Screams, cut short. Life, lost. He had family, now he was alone.

That was something he knew right away, and then suddenly, he could think, his thoughts cold and calculating. His eyes swept across the landscape, from the burning rubble and the little yard that was his, now.

People were leaving, quickly, quietly; immediately suspicious, he swung his pack over his shoulder and neared the rubble, checking the whole area for – something, he wasn't sure. A fire-starter, perhaps. His eyes fell upon the smoldering pile near where his mother's bed was – had been.

For some reason, he didn't feel sick when he saw his mother's remains. It was like he had iced over, inside and outside; he couldn't feel anything but cold fury, eyes hard and hands clenched.

He would find out who did this. He didn't know how he knew someone had done it. But he did.

And he would find them.

...

_Alexander, age 14_

* * *

He was probably the only ghost-type who chose to remain wandering the living world who didn't remember his past life. Ever. He'd been wandering the world for so many years he wasn't even sure how old he was. He recalled that his birthday was around this time of year, December 24th, but that was about it.

He was busy, now, instead of a young ghost aimlessly wandering the countryside. The person who had recruited him had given him a purpose to put his ghostly skills to use.

Flame Riders. His lips curled into a soft smile as he mouthed it, silently, as he reached out to touch the trunk of a tree. His hand passed through the bark, and he watched, expressionless, as he pulled it out again.

Yes. He had been given a purpose. It was a job he would carry out for eternity, or at least until Sinnoh ceased to be a region.

He wondered vaguely if he should be bothered, now that he was floating lightly off the ground in front of the Umbreon he had just killed.

He decided against it. He was far too old to be fretting about a criminal; he couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry for her, either. Besides, he had been watching when she had killed that little boy in cold blood. She deserved it, really.

He crouched down in the air, eyes intent on the Pokemon's face, and focused on his fingers so they would solidify enough for him to be tangible. Then he placed a single finger on her forehead, black mist curling around the fingertip. However much he didn't really want to send her along to the afterlife smoothly, it was a duty of his, something he couldn't find against.

It was in his nature. One of the only things, really, that had carried on from his past life, as far as he could tell. The other was indifference to practically anything, unless that had developed when he had first become a Misdreavus.

When he brought his finger away, the Umbreon, who had been lying, bleeding, in a pool of her own blood, seemed to slump, if that were possible. She was gone.

He stood up, disgusted with himself and the blood on his finger, shaking it off before turning and floating away.

Sometimes he wondered if it was a good thing that he didn't know his past life. He was half-convinced that he was killed by a bounty hunter, and that meant he was a criminal. And not just any criminal, if he was as indifferent as he was now.

It probably meant he was a killer, too. Just like the Umbreon he had just removed from the living world.

…

_Rhyne, age unknown_

* * *

She didn't really know why they had left her, actually. Something about her eyes, maybe; they were startlingly red, even more so than most Mightyena, but other than that she was pretty ordinary.

Though really, the first thing everyone noticed was the eye color. Even Vee, the most accepting person she had ever met, was the one to comment excitedly, "Your eyes are the color of blood!" before adding a croon of "That's so _cool_," right afterwards.

She didn't tell anyone, but it actually kind of stung.

She used to walk with her eyes focused on her feet, something she had learned to do when she was eight and living alone in the streets. People didn't treat her the same; kids ran away screaming, thinking it was all in good fun – after all, only the 'bad guys' in storybooks had red eyes. There weren't any 'good guys' with red eyes, apparently.

That was until she had been found by Rhy, of course. Before she had become part of the Flame Riders, before she had found that even outcasts have a place in the world. Before she had, through Rhy's connections, become the Speaker of Rayquaza, something she had dreamed of being for so many years.

It hadn't been Christmas when she had been so blessed, but it had been Christmas when she and Vee had become better friends.

It had started simply. Both were thirteen years old; the year Rein had first joined, and Vee was showing her the ropes. The Shedinja was cautious around her, for she was known for a violent temper when provoked. Her 'potty mouth', as the blonde now called it, didn't help either.

They were walking down the road, toward the place where Rein's future Temple was. She was going to pray; Vee was going to watch, mostly because she was not exactly a fervent believer in the gods and thus felt no need to go to her own Temple.

Rein had lived in the same place all her life, and people knew and recognized her. So instead of a greeting while they passed her in the road, they sneered insults.

Vee stiffened the first time it happened, back going rigid and a prideful snap of her neck showing she did not approve. Rein was quiet, having gotten used to the comments, and said nothing even when Vee hissed at her to stand up for herself.

Vee continued to grow more and more agitated the more Rein let it pass. The Mightyena was letting her eyes fall to her feet once more, withdrawing within herself to remain impassive.

They were almost there when Vee actually snapped. It was a trigger word – one of the people passing muttered, "Bitch," and the blonde simply exploded.

"_Do something, for Arceus's sake!_" she had screamed, and Rein had looked up, startled. The Pokemon who had uttered it looked surprised and was rooted to the spot.

Rein looked over at the Pokemon who had insulted her. The Pokemon looked back, eyes defiant, and soon a smirk was on her face. And then she said it again.

_Bitch._

Rein felt something inside of her roar to life – all the anger, and fear, and grief bottled up inside of her burst forth, and soon her vision swam red and before she knew it she was lunging forward in a vicious Take Down attack.

She felled the Pokemon in one blow, and she stood over them, panting, furious, raging, so angry she could barely feel herself as a ball of shadows collected in her palm. She leaned her arm back, preparing to throw it, screaming her rage and fear and everything in between at the terrified Pokemon at her feet, and then –

"Enough."

It was Vee, forcibly holding her back.

And it was that day, near Christmas, that for the first time, Rein realized that she could stand up for herself as the Shadow Ball attack faded from her hand.

…

_Reinforce, age 16_

* * *

"Bro's dead."

At first, you don't believe it. You simply lean back in your chair and give your little sister a long look.

She repeats the comment.

"Bro. He's dead."

This time you give it some thinking. Bro, that is, your despicable brother no one likes, is dead. That would only happen in a dream, you're sure, because everyone hates him, and no one hates him as much as you do.

Then again, it's almost Christmas. Miracles are supposed to happen on Christmas.

"No, seriously, Luco. He's dead. The Order of Celebi came to tell us today."

You stare for a few more moments, just to make sure your sis isn't kidding you – she would do something like that – but her face is happy, a small smile, and you realize she isn't kidding.

Your bro _is_ dead.

You celebrate by throwing your arms up and yelling something along the lines of 'heck yeah', except with more inappropriate wording. Your mother shouts at you from downstairs to mind your language, but you and your sis pay no heed, dancing and jumping and generally dizzy with happiness.

Then you ask how your bro died.

This is where your sis shrugs, and you listen, surprised, when she says, "I don't know. They couldn't tell us when we asked them."

Why not?

"We asked them, but they said they didn't know."

That is certainly weird. The Order of Celebi was known for its honesty and kindness, so you doubt they were lying when they said they didn't know. But it was odd nevertheless, because how often did you learn someone you hated was dead but then you didn't know why?

You actually kind of want to know. You ask your sis where he died. She gives you the location, and it's surprisingly close. You tell her you want to investigate.

She shrugs again, indifferent. "Be my guest." She's just happy that bro is gone, and while you are too, you feel suspicious for some reason you don't really know.

Your sis leaves your room, and you look out your window. Cold, snowy, bright, and there were kids, including your beautiful neighbor whose hair was so luxurious it positively _glowed_, outside playing and shouting and having fun. You briefly consider joining them, but decide against it. Your mother would be furious if you came back and got the floor covered in snow. She would probably make you mop again.

It was probably better if you just went to investigate. You wouldn't get as much snow on you then.

With your decision made, you stand back, stretch, and give the pretty girl across the street one last, longing look before turning and tromping down the stairs. There were things to be done.

...

_Lucas, age 13_

* * *

It took a lot of time to get where he was now.

There was the whole migrating thing back when he was five. His clan had to go further south in order to get more food and such. That was the day when they learned how drastically climate can affect the ice-types living up in the north; his father was one of many who died on the trip.

Then, just after he turned six, the day after his father died, his mother had taken him to a clan of Weaviles living up north. That was when he was taught most of stuff he knew today as a Sneasel.

Then there was that time when he turned ten, when he learned how to hunt with his mother. Good times, those. He misses them occasionally.

When he turned eleven he had wandered too far from the village and got caught in a blizzard. Even being an ice-type wasn't helpful and that was when he had sought shelter in a cave.

And then when he had woken up, he was in chains. That had been a weird time, just waking up and being like _what the hell are these, chains?_ and then realizing, _oh, hey, they _are_ chains._

Slave dealers. He thought they'd been wiped out years ago, but apparently there were still some rich Pokemon out there who wanted slaves. Who knew.

He'd escaped, of course, and had killed the slave guy in the process. The guy deserved it, since he'd captured all these young kids and was going to sell them. Though really, the Sneasel hadn't didn't spend time actually helping those younglings escape from the slave dealer; maybe he should've.

Nah. It was too much effort on his part.

Anyway, thirteen was the big year. After he'd lived as a thief in the town for two years, some wealthy bigwig traveling merchant dude hired him out of pity to protect his cargo – which happened to be Pokemon, but he ignored that key fact for the moment. Still, once his job was done, the slave dealer was killed. He found that he didn't like slave dealers that much, even though they paid well.

With that money, he'd started his own business in assassination and thievery and other general tricks. That was the life, really, being the boss of an organization that did the dirty work, so long as you were paid well.

Not that he did those things anymore. He needed to relax, and pull back from all the horrible things he'd done working under the slave dealer and such. Resting up from life, really.

Still, when the Flame Riders made the offer, he hadn't turned them down. If he could use his skills to help the region, well, fine, that was a good cause in his books.

After all, his skills weren't really useful for anything good, and just once, Sleet really wanted to be the good guy.

…

_Sleet_, _age 17_

* * *

**And it is done. If you could review, and tell me if I got your character right, that would be fabulous. And if I forgot your character, feel free to kill me, but I'd probably die from embarrassment first.**


	7. 5 - Mourning

**Chapter 5, or Mourning.**

**Edit 1/20/13: made some changes concerning Spark's death, other minor edits, fixed typos.**

**********Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**

**I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

Getting to Veilstone was supposed to be straightforward, or at the very least, there wasn't supposed to be anything complicated. In fact, the whole journey itself was fairly simple when explained: go through Solaceon, get through the next Route, and then hopefully get to the place in time for dinner.

But naturally, as the Flame Riders always had the worst of luck, it didn't end up that easy.

"This one's still alive – Xander! Over here!"

Xander turned toward the call, feeling his muscles burn, while simultaneously beginning to sprint, wings extended behind him. Rein was cradling a young boy's head – he looked barely thirteen, what was he doing on the battlefield? – and the youngster coughed and hacked what appeared to be blood as the Swellow approached.

"Dammit, why did this battle have to happen now?" Rein growled as she stood with the boy in her arms. She gently scooped him up, bridal-style, and stood, handing him to Xander, who was careful not to disturb the young boy's position any more than he had to. "He won't make it if you don't hurry."

"I know. Just stay calm, Rein," Xander murmured soothingly, feeling the already-heavy pressure on his shoulders increase as he turned, making a brief running start before taking off in the direction of Solaceon. It was hard to fly smoothly, without bumps or jolts, but he did his best, whispering assurances to the boy when he moaned softly. It appeared he had been nailed with a Slash attack on his torso, but Xander didn't spend too much time looking before averting his gaze.

When he landed back in Solaceon, hard, jarring, hissing when the boy groaned at the impact, Vee was waiting, immediately taking the boy from him. The boy looked ridiculously oversized in her arms, his tall, lanky form limp in her shorter arms. "Oh, Arceus," she said, her voice wavering – but she turned and quickly entered the small town's only hospital with the boy, mouth set in a firm line. It was already overflowing with wounded, but more doctors were coming from Hearthome and Veilstone. Xander could only hope they got there soon enough to save all the people there…

He turned, took off again, his wings burning with effort. He'd been at this for an hour already.

Landing on the battlefield again – there weren't as many people now, fortunately, since other Pokemon besides the Flame Riders had been helping out – was sobering, no matter how many times he saw it and tried to avert his gaze from the worst parts. Rhy was floating a few inches off the ground, eyes closed, arms lifted slightly at his sides, blue-green robes twirling in the slight breeze. Xander knew better than to approach him; the Misdreavus was no doubt communicating with the dead, as quite a few them would become ghost-types themselves.

"Xander!" That came from Luco, and the Swellow wasted no time in pivoting toward the call and going forward, minding the grass that was slick with blood lest he trip and fall on his face. "I don't suppose you've seen Nightingale anywhere, have you?" Luco asked once the Swellow was within normal talking range, and Xander could see the way the Pachirisu slouched; like everyone else, the Rider was exhausted. "I could use his help right now."

He had not, or at least not recently. "Haven't, sorry. What's up?" Xander asked, casting his yellow eyes around the field in a 360 perimeter, despite him not wanting to look at the blood or corpses. There were bodies to be buried or burned, so many bodies, weapons to be reused (swords everywhere, he had never seen so many swords), and he knew somewhere in the giant mess were more wounded, more people to save.

And at the same time, they had to get to Veilstone to prevent more of this from happening, to stop the pointless warring going on. There was just too much... too much _stuff_ to do. Maybe they should write up a new to-do list.

"We need ice," Luco was saying, and Xander snapped his attention back to the Pachirisu. "Or at least, the nurses say they need ice. Nightingale would be perfect for that, but you know how he is." Luco shrugged, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he did so, and he added, "I mean, he's not here, obviously."

Xander exhaled loudly through his nose, exasperated at both Luco for wasting his time and Nightingale for not being where he was supposed to be. "Who knows, Luco. He might be busy with his whole organization or business thing, whatever, or he may be lazing about." He sighed and looked up at the clear, blue sky for a moment, wondering why it could be so cheery on a day as dreadful as this. "In any case, we don't have time to find him."

Here he gestured to the open plain with his arm, face shadowed, and Luco sighed in turn and nodded. "Back to work," he murmured, and he brushed past the Swellow, intent on going back to the hospital, Xander was sure.

He turned, took a deep breath, and began to walk again, toward where many Pokemon lay dead – or dying, that was what he was going to check, anyway. He called softly as he approached, prodding bodies with the edge of his boot (swallowing the bile that rose in his throat), and literally jumped when a chill passed through his shoulder.

He turned and met Rhy's pink eyes, which were bright with concern. "Calm yourself, Xander," he said quietly, taking his fingers away from his flesh – and the chill with them. "There is no living remaining in this field. Of this I can assure you."

Xander breathed out, slowly, and shut his eyes once, briefly, before opening them again. "What do we do next?" he asked quietly, averting his gaze from his leader's.

"For the moment," Rhy began, then fell silent. Xander was surprised by his hesitation, but wisely didn't show it when the ghost finished, "Go to the hospital. Help out. I will… there is something I must do."

Xander wondered briefly whether he should ask about it, but he decided against it – Rhy was incredibly defensive when questioned, and definitely much too cryptic to be appreciated. Instead he merely nodded, gave his wings an experimental flap and, feeling the muscles burn, instead opted to walk.

* * *

When Nightingale finally showed up, about an hour later, entering the hospital ragged and exhausted, Rein was very irritated with him and wasted no time in telling him so. "Where the fuck were you?" Rein demanded, eyes narrowed at the Weavile. "Do you know how hard we worked our asses off while you, I don't know, chilled out with ice cream or something?"

Nightingale didn't even grace her with a response, instead going straight to Vee, resting his hands on her shoulders. A few seconds passed, in which something seemed to pass between them via eye contact; then his hands fell to his sides and his forehead thumped against her right shoulder with a quiet groan.

Xander had yet to figure out how Vee had become the person whom everyone went to, himself included. _Then again,_ he thought to himself,_ she's here the longest, and she and Nightingale are practically best friends anyway._

As he thought this the Shedinja smiled at the rest of them when she noticed every Flame Rider was staring (excepting Nero, but Nero never really looked at anyone when he was reading) and then whispered something to Nightingale – Xander was close enough to hear her words: "Let's go talk to Rhy."

Rein gave the two an annoyed look, muttering something like "bastard, evading the question", as they walked out of the room, intent on outside where Rhy would be doing final communications with the dead. Curious, Xander, after a moment, got up and followed, and Luco hissed as he passed, "Tell me what they talked about afterwards," and the Swellow nodded before exiting.

Rhy was speaking quietly in the distance by himself when he left the hospital, and without preamble Xander came close enough to eavesdrop as the other two Riders came closer. Amusingly, the other three didn't even react to his presence; instead, Rhy turned and began to listen as Nightingale recounted what appeared to be what he had done while he'd been missing, Vee remaining a steady presence of support next to him. Just to be less conspicuous, though, he found himself a tree to lean against and cast his eyes upward at the leaves.

"It's been so long since I've done anything like that," Nightingale was saying, and Xander's eyebrow quirked upward; he could tell that the Weavile was near breaking down. Vee whispered assurances as Nightingale added, "I wanted to be the head of the thing so I didn't have to do any killing anymore, but I still earned a profit."

Rhy looked expressionless, as he always did, as he asked, "What mission did you have to carry out in place of your agent?"

The Weavile's voice was shaking, but there was no hesitation as he told them, "I had to kill a family."

Rhy was going to say something else but Nightingale added, "There were three children."

There was a long silence, in which Vee kept her hand on the Nightingale's shoulder and Rhy's eyes never flitted from the Weavile's blood-red ones. The Shedinja, after what seemed like an eternity, flicked her eyes to glare at her leader, telling him to say something, quickly. But unfortunately, the ghost said the worst thing possible, leaving Xander to wince:

"The only advice I have for you is to move on."

Nightingale looked panicked, and he reached out to grab Rhy's shoulders – only to have his claw-like fingers pass right through the ghost's green-blue robes and translucent flesh. The Weavile withdrew, eyes wide and filled with… fear? _Nightingale never shows his fear_, Xander thought, shocked, as the Weavile pleaded, "Don't you have anything that can help with the – the guilt of this, I can't stand it! What have I _done_?"

What surprised Xander more than Nightingale's outburst was the cold flash of Rhy's eyes. His leader was always sympathetic and gentle and kind to everyone; but now, he merely looked annoyed and frustrated. "I cannot tell you anything," Rhy said icily, and even Nightingale took a step back at his irritated tone. "Once you have been alive as long as myself, it is hard to remember what guilt feels like."

Vee opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and instead turned, bringing Nightingale with her. She gave Xander a look that said _don't tell anyone _and he nodded, once, avoiding Nightingale's accusing red glare. As soon as they had walked past he turned to follow, only to have Rhy call after him, "Alexander, a word, please."

He steeled himself and turned around again, feathers fluttering with anxiety. Rhy had the strangest look on his face – he looked condescending, impatient, but most of all, furious. Xander gulped, unable to repress the expression of anxiety that flitted across his face.

"I do not expect you to understand me," the Misdreavus said in a dangerously quiet voice, and Xander took a tiny step back; how had the ghost known he was doing just that, trying to judge him? "Nor do I expect you to try. But I do expect you to say nothing of this, for if you do, I may just feel the need to snap your neck."

"But you're a ghost," Xander's mouth blabbed, and he felt his terror rising with each syllable. _Why am I talking, why the hell am I talking_, "You can't touch me, can you?"

"There are ways to get around intangibleness," Rhy shot back, and then he sighed and his eyes snapped shut. "Please, leave, before my temper truly gets the better of me." Xander wasted no time in obeying, spinning around and sprinting away, reentering the building far more quickly than he had left it.

Luco rose to his feet upon seeing him, and was halfway through saying, "What happened?" just as Xander pressed his back against the wall and slowly sank to a sitting position, using his wings to make a shelter of sorts around him. It was enough to tell everyone to leave him alone, and he heard Luco fall back into his seat with a soft sigh. Xander then tuned all the voices out and folded into himself, mentally.

But the only thing that ran through his mind was that Rhy could be terrifying when he was angry.

* * *

It was, of course, Vee, who worked up the courage to push past Xander's feathers and to gently tap his shoulder a few hours later. His reaction wasn't extremely violent, per se, but she quickly stumbled backwards when his wings snapped out in a Wing Attack – it would have been deadly had it hit.

Rein then helped him to his feet, curiosity burning in her red eyes, as she murmured, "We're leaving for Veilstone now."

He blinked at her, stupidly, unable to comprehend for a moment. Then: "Right," he muttered, sticking his hands inside of his coat pockets and casting a careful eye around for Rhy. The Misdreavus was carefully avoiding his gaze, small, lithe hands clasped neatly in front of his flowing blue-green robes, pale feet floating an inch or so above the ground. "Right," he said to himself again as the seven of them left the building and began walking out of Solaceon in a clump. He found Vee at his left, Nero at his right for whatever reason, and didn't respond when Vee tentatively asked if he was all right.

After a while of quiet, in which Nightingale was strangely silent and kept to himself, Luco and Rein were arguing again, Rhy was floating ahead as leader, and Nero and Vee remained silent at his side, Xander asked Vee, "Can you tell me more about Rhy?"

This question gained Nero's interest immediately, as his visible eye snapped up from the ground and flicked over to the Shedinja as she said, hesitantly, "As a person, or as a leader?"

"Person." There wasn't an immediate answer. "You've known him longest," Xander pointed out, looking down at his black combat boots as they stepped in and out of his vision. "You've been here since you were seven, right?"

"Nine," she corrected, absently, "I've _been_ here for seven years." She was quiet for a moment, and then she began to explain, hesitantly, so quietly both the Swellow and the Gallade had to lean in to hear, "As a person, he is… different, you could say. He has morals, but he's learned them over his long life as a ghost."

"He didn't have them when he was actually alive?" Xander asked.

Vee hummed in agreement and asked, "Have you noticed that he hasn't told anyone about who he was before his death?" Xander hadn't, though he knew right away that Nero had, as the Gallade was nodding. Vee shrugged and quickened her step, tossing over her shoulder, "That's all you really need to know."

What could she meant by that, he wondered, as Vee effortlessly stepped between the arguing Luco and Rein and began to converse animatedly with the Mightyena, kicking Luco out of the conversation with a simple elbow jab. Nero remained at his side, but he could tell the Gallade was distracted and wasn't really thinking about comforting him. Really, he was by himself on this.

He looked over at Rhy, focusing his eyes on the small of the boy's back. He had received a death threat from the ghost earlier today. He had acted strangely when Nightingale had asked him about how to deal with the guilt. Vee had said the ghost had only learned morals after his death.

He couldn't really assume anything except that Rhy had a… interesting life. Perhaps a violent one. He couldn't be sure, though, and the possibilities of his leader's previous life continued to run through his mind.

The next thing he knew, the grass under his feet had turned to stone – he had forgotten how close Veilstone City was to Solaceon. The Route hadn't been difficult to cross, apparently, having taken less than thirty minutes to go through. They were soon at the city gates, though Rhy opted for a more hidden route and merely floated through the walls.

Naturally, this irked Rein, who was plenty irritated at being forced through the gates as Veilstone's guards were notorious gamblers and self-proclaimed 'ladies' men'. Though really, she shouldn't have worried with Luco there; Xander knew firsthand that the Pachirisu wouldn't let anyone touch the Mightyena without a fight, seeing at Luco could get jealous pretty easily no matter whether he would admit it or not. The entry to the city was thus uneventful, and the five of them met up with Rhy again soon enough.

"What next?" Rein asked the Misdreavus, hands on her hips. He was looking toward where the Temple of Arceus was, easily peering over the heads of the other Pokemon with his Levitation ability.

Rhy looked over to her, eyes scanning over the other Riders – though he spared only the quickest glance Xander. "Make yourselves comfortable at the safe house," he said in that quiet, authoritive voice of his. "The Speaker of Arceus may not wish to talk to me, but I should think that he will listen if I attempt to communicate with him."

That would usually be when Xander coined some sarcastic phrase, and when he didn't Luco and Rein gave him a concerned look. Rhy simply floated into the ground, passing through Pokemon without regard for their comfort, and Vee gestured with her arm to 'let's go, quickly', following Nero as the Gallade began to walk to the safe house.

It was strange to think that after all of these years, it was only now that Xander was beginning to question everything the Flame Riders actually stood for. Or at least, what their leader stood for. He had been loyal to a fault, blindly doing what was ordered of him, and it was only now that he wondered if he had been wrong.

Why would someone as intelligent as Nero continue to do this? Why would someone as friendly and forgiving as Vee be doing this? Why was Luco, why was Rein doing this? At least Nightingale he could understand, he thought, but even so, they stuck around, knowing their leader wasn't exactly _good_, per se. Why? What if what they were doing was wrong?

Why was he still doing this, killing and sneaking around and manipulating in order to help the region as a whole?

He certainly had a lot of thinking to do, and as soon as the safe house was in sight, he hurried in, found an armchair, and resumed a fetal position while curving his wings around him in a shelter once more. The world could wait; this newfound revelation could not.

* * *

"Look! _Ruins!_"

No one had time to even see Silver dart away, making a beeline for said monument of interest. Pepper and Spark followed after a moment, leaving the two Assassins and test subject to trail after them.

The five caught up with the Minccino as he stood before the entrance, jaw reaching the ground, hands limply at his sides, eyes wide open, just staring. The two younger girls remained quiet, seeing no need to interrupt the boy's excitement, so it was Yue who broke the silence with, "Uh, what about these are so amazing?"

Silver didn't even respond to her query, instead turning to face them and saying in a very serious tone, "We must explore them."

To this, Hikaru simply sat on the ground against a tree, the movement smooth and graceful despite the wince of pain. It was obvious his chest wound was still hurting him, despite being healed of frostbite and not having a permanent mark there. Yue looked inclined to agree.

Nevertheless, Zila, surprisingly enough, was the voice of reason: "You've never been here. You'll get lost," but Silver disregarded him entirely, even as he was speaking, and was quickly engulfed by the darkness of the cave as he strode forward. No one followed initially, until he called back about something 'cool' – then Spark, after an exaggerated eye roll, went in, followed by Pepper. Hikaru and Yue hung back with Zila, staring after them.

After a moment, Yue said with a sigh, "We'll have to go after them, won't we?"

"Won't I," Zila corrected, adding as Yue gave him an offended look, "I'm the only one who can see well in the dark." She grunted in agreement, seeing the logic in this, and lowered herself to the ground next to Hikaru. Zila remained standing for a moment longer; then he turned to them and said, "I'll see if we can get some food."

"Please do," Yue replied, eyes trained on the entrance of the cave, ears pricked to hear for returning footsteps - or any footsteps, for that matter. "We haven't eaten since yesterday."

Zila muttered something along the lines of an irritated "I know, why do you think I'm going to get some" before stalking off, silent and deadly. Meanwhile, the Accelgor and the Arcanine settled in for a long wait.

It was only a few minutes later that Zila returned with what appeared to be berries. Not a lot of berries, and when given a look he shrugged and said, "Everyone knows my face, no convenience stores out here, and this is all I could find." His tone booked no argument, so Hikaru and Yue wisely remained silent and took a few berries from his hands.

Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, until the sun was beginning to lower in the sky and both Yue and Hikaru had fallen asleep, the Arcanine curled up on her side on the ground and the Accelgor simply leaning back on his tree, eyes closed and breathing light and quiet; on alert as always, a trademark of ninjas.

Zila wondered if he should wake them, as he should probably go search for the youngsters – no doubt they had gotten lost. In the end, he nudged a foot against Hikaru, springing the ninja into complete, jarring awareness, and said quietly, in order not to wake Yue, "I'm going to go look for them."

Hikaru gave him a measured look, green eyes shielded and obviously annoyed at being woken up, but nodded and proceeded to get to his feet with the slightest wince, to keep watch, as Zila stepped into the cave and pricked his ears, listening for any sounds. His sharp ears picked up a faint noise, and he immediately headed towards it, quietly, stealthily, not even thinking that he would get lost.

He wouldn't, of course. He could smell the outdoors, and hear it as well.

The routes in the cave were twisting and confusing, but he carried on, relying on his ears to lead him to the right place. The noise became more distinct – voices, one male, two female, yes, definitely the people he was looking for. Arceus, how long had those three been wandering? He went further, steadying his steps, making them silent, and as he approached, he slowed his breathing.

They were talking about how they'd never get out. Typical. Whenever people were panicked they always talked about things they couldn't change.

He didn't even realize he was hiding himself until he edged around a corner, the voices louder and echoing off the walls. Then he stopped and realized he was breathing slowly, walking quietly, moving smoothly. With an effort he relaxed himself and simply strode forward, seeing with his sharp eyes the three young people and calling out disdainfully, "Got lost, did you?"

Only Silver was startled, with both Pepper and Spark turning toward him, ready to attack. They only dropped their guard when they saw it was Zila, and even then, they were a little cautious... though Spark just gave him a sneer.

"Nice, finding us so quickly. Couldn't have come a bit sooner?" Spark spat scathingly, turning to help Silver to his feet – it appeared the Minccino had been examining the runes on the walls of the caves.

Zila shrugged, not that they could see, and simply said, "Follow me if you want to get out."

"Can't see you," Spark pointed out, but Zila merely turned, unconcerned, and began to walk. Silver would be able to come after him, easily, due to his sharp hearing, and Pepper and Spark would trail after him – so really, the Zoroark wasn't worried, and thus did not reply. As he had expected, three sets of footsteps were following him by the end of five yards.

It was only a few minutes later that the exit came into view. Spark ran ahead as soon as she saw it and proceeded to throw herself to the ground and simply lie there, limp even when Pepper nudged her side with her foot. "Never again," she groaned, her fingers tightening around a few blades of grass.

"You're a ground-type," Yue said, amused; she had since woken up from the time Zila had left, it seemed. "Caves shouldn't bother you that much." Spark did not grace her remark with a reply, and instead the air was filled with Silver babbling about all he'd seen to anyone who would listen, while Pepper attempted to get him to stop talking.

After a moment, Zila pointed out, "You could've gotten lost without ever getting out."

Silver stopped his monologue long enough to flash him a smile. "Eh, I knew you would find us. Otherwise I never would've gone in without preparation." Zila gave him a sour look – _what am I, a slave _– as the Minccino looked around and asked, "Is there food?"

"Not anymore," Yue said, hoisting herself to her feet. She held out a hand to Hikaru and Pepper didn't miss the way Zila tensed when the Arcanine helped the ninja to a standing position. "We ate it all. Best be moving, there's bound to be more stuff to eat somewhere in Veilstone."

Spark lay immobile on the ground until Pepper gave her a swift kick to the ribs; then the Garchomp yelped and flipped over on her side, shooting the Electivire a sharp glare. She said nothing, however, and grudgingly got to her feet when Silver hissed at her.

"How far is it?" Spark asked, already sounding like she was whining despite not even having moved yet.

"A half-hour, tops," Yue replied, stretching out the kinks in her arm as she began to walk. "Cheer up, it can't be that bad."

Spark grunted and put herself behind the Arcanine, with Silver and Pepper flanking her; Hikaru, having regained more mobility, was scouting ahead for whatever reason and Zila took up the rear… as always. He never really told anyone, but he was sort of irritated at always being in the back. Would it be so bad to be in the center for once?

It was a petty thing to worry about, really. Kind of sad, actually, that he was annoyed by that.

In his contemplation he missed the near-silent movement – but then there was a glint of light off metal, a startled yelp from the Garchomp ahead of him, and then there was scarlet drops of blood spraying in a sharp arc to the left.

And then the familiar long strands of brown hair flared up at Spark collapsed to the ground, and the shrieks of both Pepper and Silver filled the air while Zila simply stared, wide-eyed, at the bleeding girl in front of him.

* * *

As he had assured his Speaker, it was simple to find the Flame Riders.

They were near Solaceon, taking a rest, it seemed, before continuing on to Veilstone; he hadn't needed to travel much at all, surprisingly enough. He hadn't been certain right away, since there had been only three, but then the dark one had had gone into the cave retrieving the rest of the members. Actually, he still wasn't completely certain. There were six Pokemon; it matched the description. It was well-known that the Flame Riders traditionally had five to ten members, and for the last century or so rumors said there were only six at the moment.

But other than that, he couldn't discover anything about them. Really, the number of members was the only lead he'd gotten. And even then, he couldn't be sure if those rumors were accurate or not. So he had watched from a distant, crouching motionless in the bushes, his camo outfit hiding him well, breathing slow and steadily, in order to make sure.

He actually squeaked when a hand landed on his shoulder, so startled was he, and at the same time he knew exactly who it was. "_Nina_," he said accusingly in a hushed whisper. "This is _my_ job. Get the fuck out."

"Nah." Her flippant tone was enough for him to want to turn and strangle her – he had never been fond of the Ninetales, mostly because she was as annoying as hell and also partly because she was the best Assassin en lieu of him. "Tell me what you've got."

"Why." The response was curt and irritated.

"Because as your superior, I can ask for that sort of thing," she flashed back, a smirk on her face. Ugh, that smirk. He had been the target of that very same expression for so many years, and his lips dipped in the slightest scowl in response. "So tell me, you're sure you have the Flame Riders pinned down?"

He deliberated for a long moment whether he should tell her anything. In the end, it was obvious he had to; as she had said, she was his superior and if she told the Speaker he would be in hot water. "Bitch," he muttered, before he spat, "Yes, I've got them, they're over there."

She didn't miss the insult but chose to ignore it, annoying Ninetales she was. "They strong?"

"How the hell should I know? It's not like I've can go up and attack them just like that." Blade turned away from her to rest his eyes on his targets. "I have to pick them off, one by one."

"Simple enough," she said, and when he flicked his eyes to her he saw she was examining her nails, as if she didn't care about the result either way. His temper rose and he fought it down, with an effort, as she said, "Let me help you."

"I don't want your help." The response was quick, automatic, defensive. He winced inwardly. "You'd fuck everything up. You're always too quick to do things. This requires planning and patience, of which you have neither."

"I'm flattered," she said, that damning smirk widening a touch. He resisted the urge to Slash her face. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"We both know that's a lie," he snapped back, creeping forward as the party of six began to move. "Stay back and let me take care of this."

"How about I take on one of the girls? They look like easy prey," she offered.

His response was an instantaneous hiss. "What – fuck – no. That's just wrong, Nina."

"What, to kill the girls before the guys because of your whole 'I-don't-like-fighting-women-because-they're-delicate-pansies'? Please, Blade. That's so old."

He gave her a brief glare, and then flipped her the bird behind his back, eyes intent on the tall, darker Pokemon. "If you think you know the best way to do this, then be my guest and tell me what you think should be done."

"Kill the weaker ones, in this case, the younger ones there, the two girls. Then go for the smaller boy – Arceus, look at him, he's not even five foot, poor guy – and then maybe the dark, tall one with the weird cloak."

"That's a shitty idea, and you know it," Blade snapped. "How can you hope to kill the two girls without them realizing?"

Her eyes were filled with a manic joy. "I don't plan to _be_ undetected."

It took a moment for the words to dawn on him, and he lunged forward as she sprinted to them, hissing, "Fuck, no, stop, Nina, _this is a bad idea_ – "

He was too late. By the time he was close enough to reach them, one of the younger girls was lying still on the ground.

* * *

"_Spark!_"

Hikaru was on instant alert the moment he heard the cry, and he doubled back without hesitation. That had been the young blonde, Pepper, and the way her voice had risen in pitch was foreboding to what he would be facing.

He arrived at the other five in mere moments, and analyzed the situation. The Garchomp was down, bleeding, wounded, being taken care of. The threat that had hurt her was nowhere in sight, and his eyes traced the path of Spark's blood to determine which direction she had escaped - still, peering into the brush, he could not see what had hurt her. Pepper was calming down somewhat since her scream, though she was still slightly hysterical. Yue was on guard, Zila was crouching next to Silver who was kneeling next to Spark. Most everyone was calm; good.

He quickly made himself useful – that is, scanning the area for the danger. He aligned himself with Yue, with her facing one way next to the young girl Spark and him facing the other, flicking his knife out of his sleeve with a near-invisible, practiced motion. Better safe than sorry.

It surprised him on how quickly Pepper regained composure, and soon enough she was next to him, face expressionless but for the fury burning in her amber eyes. She was, in fact, the first to detect the Pokemon responsible for the attack, nudging his shoulder and nodding in the general direction. As soon as he had seen the movement in the brush she went over to Yue and pointed the threat out to the Arcanine as well.

"Oh, they found me already," a female voice said, the tone disappointed. Hikaru immediately unclipped a shuriken from his belt and threw it in the voice's direction. He wasn't sure if it hit, but there was a surprised sound from where it had come from and then, the Pokemon stepped into view, shuriken in hand. She dropped it disdainfully on the ground as she approached.

_A Ninetales_. Damn. He'd have to be extremely careful this time around, him already being half-wounded and a bug-type to boot. And then he blinked. _Wait a minute…_ he knew this person. Flicking his eyes over at Yue, it was evident she did as well, as she was stalking forward with narrowed eyes.

"Nina," she said icily. "What are you doing?"

The Ninetales looked startled, to say the least – an expression rarely seen on her, for the Assassin was normally composed and had that insufferable smirk on her face. "Yue? But, wait, Blade said this – " Her lips quirked upwards into grin. "You're part of the Flame Riders?"

There was silence for a long moment. Then, all at the same time, Zila, Pepper and Yue repeated, "Flame Riders?"

Nina paused, disbelief apparent on her face. Then threw her head back and laughed, scarlet hair becoming blinding in the setting sun. "Oh, Arceus, these are the wrong targets. Blade, you were so _wrong_!" She shouted the last part into the trees, and she grinned at the rest of them. "My apologies, I didn't mean to kill her – I thought you were my target. I'll just take my leave now."

She made a move to leave, but stopped when both Yue and Pepper glided in front of her. "You think you can just leave," Pepper began, her voice wavering – not in fear, Hikaru could tell, but in anger, "After you did this?"

"Who's gonna stop me, you?" She laughed, loudly, and Hikaru really wondered if she didn't care at all that she had wounded someone younger than her. "Please. You don't look like you could defeat a baby, let alone put up a good fight."

"But I can," Yue snarled, stepping closer as Pepper growled at the insult. The Accelgor watched with interest when Nina consequently stepped back, all nine tails flicking; she was nervous. _Why?_ "I know you hate Pokemon like me, and I'm stronger than you."

"Please," Nina said with a sneer, though she took another step back as Yue came forward. "Just because I hate dog-like Pokemon doesn't mean I'll go easy on you." _Ah, that's why, she doesn't like Pokemon like Arcanines._

"You think you'll get out of this alive?" Yue snarled, and the two girls began circling each other. Hikaru stepped back out of the way and went over to the fallen girl, keeping a careful eye on the action as he knelt down next to Spark.

"This is bad," Silver said bleakly when Hikaru took over, skimming his fingers over the girl's body to find other wounds besides the obvious slashes in her middle. Finding nothing else of grave important, the ninja quickly and efficiently flexed Spark's knees into a bent position, so she was lying flat on her back with her legs shaped in an upside-down 'V'. This, Hikaru knew, would minimize pain and shock.

The Minccino had taken a spare shirt from his pack, it seemed, and was pressing it on the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding. "I don't know how to treat stomach wounds." There was a harsh growl from the fighters' direction, from Yue as she dodged an attack, and it briefly gained their attention before they looked down again. "Zila, do you - ?"

"Sorry. I'm a test subject, not a doctor." Zila was staring straight at the battle, eyes narrowed. "Just try to stop the bleeding for now."

"I know that, I'm trying to right now," Silver snapped, before he sighed, a shaky, defeated sound. Hikaru gestured for him to move over, and smoothly took his place while Silver ducked his head near Spark's. The Accelgor had trained his ears to pick up on the smallest sounds, so he heard the conversation that happened next, even as he set to work dressing the wound.

"Silver, I'm going to die." Her breath was ragged, her voice so soft only the sharpest ears like Silver's and Hikaru's would detect it, and she coughed a bit afterwards. Pepper snapped her head around at the sound, and she abandoned the fight immediately in favor of going over to her friend, kneeling down and taking her hand in her own.

_No exit wound_, Hikaru thought with some relief, after carefully slipping a hand under her back and feeling around. There wasn't a pool of blood, either, fully solidifying the fact.

"Don't say that, Spark, please don't say that. You're not going to die. You're not going to die." Hikaru's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch; the Minccino sounded so… desperate. He himself had never been attached to people like that, himself, and he wondered how if felt to lose someone that close to him, as he refocused on his task. "I promise you won't die."

_Cloth_. He needed bandages of some kind, as he tossed Silver's blood-soaked fabric aside and carefully tore away the young girl's shirt from her abdomen while leaning over, protecting the wound from further contamination. Then he blinked and almost smiled at his own folly; duh, his scarf. Ooh, but he didn't want to give up his scarf that easily...

"Don't lie. I'm going to die." A harsh, grating sound came from her throat; she was chuckling. "Hey, it rhymes."

"Spark," Pepper said disapprovingly, her voice breaking as she did so.

_If you don't she's going to die_. He rolled his eyes at his conscience, taking his scarf from his neck with a few, practiced motions and placing one end on the long, straight cut. The Garchomp's organs were still in her body, thank Arceus, so it would be rendered a little easier. He slid his scarf under her body, reached over and grabbed it on the other side, and repeated.

More shrieks and sounds of flesh tearing into flesh, and Hikaru looked down when he felt moisture on his hands; the blood was bleeding through the cloth. He finished his dressing, quickly, and tied the two ends together in a knot on her side. This was the limit of his knowledge for this type of wound; now, it was simply a matter of time. If only they were closer to a hospital, and there wasn't someone to fight… Hikaru gritted his teeth, the bandages over his mouth moving as he did so.

True to her word, Spark was probably going to die. Looking over at his handiwork, neat and tidy (_his scarf was forever ruined. Arceus dammit_), he determined it would be from blood loss.

"I'm sorry how I acted all the time," Spark was saying, whispering really, and Silver's protests were shushed as she continued, "I was always annoying and ungrateful, and I – " Here she hacked up a liquid, one that he couldn't quite see but knew was blood – "I really didn't deserve friends like you and Pepper."

"That's not true," Silver hissed, reaching down to interlock his fingers with the Garchomp's. Hikaru regarded it all with interest; it was like a death scene straight out of a book.

As if it were a magical chant that would save her life, Pepper whispered, "You're not going to die, Spark."

_I wonder why killing a child is so different from killing a teenager. Or watching one die_, Hikaru thought morbidly, looking at Spark's face as he sat up, knowing there was nothing more he could do. The thought pained and repulsed him at the same time.

"It's not your fault," Spark whispered, ignoring both comments and addressing Pepper. Her brilliant green eyes closed, her breathing shallow. Hikaru then had an idea and took the knife out of his sleeve, regarding the sharp edge as it flashed in the light. It looked like she was in pain, and if she wished it, he would end her life quickly. "And it's not yours, either, Silver..."

Silver remained silent, and the whole place was quiet except for the fighting fire-types nearby with Zila occasionally getting Nina off-guard with a Shadow Ball. Pepper let out a strangled sob, clenching tightly to Spark's hand, tears glittering in her eyes.

Hikaru gently moved the two out of the way as he shuffled over to where Spark's head was, bent down to Spark's ear, and whispered, the second time he'd talked in the recent past hours, "If you wish, I can end this for you now, rather than having you die of blood loss."

Her nod was almost imperceptible, and she was grimacing in pain. Hikaru withdrew. Then, so quickly both Silver and Pepper only had time to gasp, he slit her throat, watching blood splay out and coat his fingers.

Surprising him once again, it was Pepper who realized what he had done first, and held Silver back when the shorter Minccino fought to attack him – not that he could have done much damage, obviously. "Coup de grâce," she whispered in Silver's ear, and even though he ceased movement, he still glared daggers at the Accelgor. Hikaru wiped his knife on the only clean part of Silver's shirt, now resting next to Spark's body, before retreating from the two living youngsters and their now deceased friend.

He had just killed someone, but he felt so little guilt. He wondered if he should feel more, since he had killed a child, but he had gotten so used to limited emotions that he felt no reason to follow that thread of thought. So instead, he went over to the trees and watched the battle between the two fire-types continue.

Yue was winning, it seemed, but Nina was obviously holding back, that much he could tell. Zila was on edge nearby, ready to step in once Yue exhausted herself – which she would, because once Nina got serious she didn't stand a chance. It pained Hikaru to realize that, mostly because he really wasn't in the mood to fight and also because if Yue was wounded, he'd have to take temporary position as Top Assassin, or rather, leader of this merry bunch, and that was a tedious process. He could tell you firsthand that being leader wasn't all it was cracked up to be..

Then, all of a sudden, Nina was being held back and was shouting something. Something about Blade. Who was probably the Scizor whose arms were hooked around hers and was dragging her back.

"Fuck it, Nina, you've done enough damage already. What the hell were you thinking, you idiot, I told you that I needed a plan first, and I wasn't even sure if it was them – "

"It was implied!" she shot back, and the other five were silent, watching the entire exchange with interest. "You said they were the Flame Riders!"

"And you should've waited until I had gotten a plan! Now you went a killed an innocent! The Speaker can have you executed for that!"

She sneered at him, fighting his grip and failing to escape. Hikaru had to admire the boy's strength. "You know what? I don't give a fuck. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Both Pepper and Silver sprang to their feet at that, bristling. Hikaru was surprised at that as well; Nina evidently really didn't care about what she had just done. Even so, before anyone could strike the unusual pair of Assassins disappeared into the trees. Most could hear them scurry off but were not in the mood to chase them.

Zila, Hikaru and Yue turned to the youngsters, sitting around Spark's body. Each was holding onto one of the Garchomp's hands, and while Pepper looked mournful Silver simply looked furious.

"What should we do now?" Zila asked, quietly. It took a moment for everyone to realize he spoke of Spark's body, not of what they were to do next.

Everyone was silent as Silver and Pepper stood, both tearless and angry. Their reactions to her death was a little… different than what Hikaru had expected. He had thought Pepper, for one, would burst into uncontrollable tears and be a sobbing pile of uselessness for at least an hour. Silver's, at least, was more accurate, as he was silent and angry and would no doubt seek revenge once he was strong enough. If he ever got strong enough, the Accelgor thought to himself privately.

"We'll bury her." Pepper, her voice flat and emotionless. It was the first time anyone had heard her sound that way.

Zila nodded, turned, began to seek out a suitable spot to dig a hole; Yue was quick to lend her aid. Silver and Pepper picked up Spark's limp body, faces expressionless, and Hikaru simply stood back and watched, flipping his knife over and over in his hand.

It seemed that this adventure would be more dangerous than he had previous thought.

And the mere realization of this made him smile.

* * *

The only thing she could hear him mutter as he paced was "Preparations, preparations, preparations," over and over and over again. Just what was racing through his mind, she wondered, as she sat in the chair across from him, in the desk she had previous occupied only a day earlier.

Finally she snapped, and she asked him impatiently, "Anything yet, Polen?"

"Oh, shut your face, Oriole, I'm thinking," he replied, absently, not quite intending to insult but having the same effect, basically.

"Thinking about _what_?" Oriole pressed, ignoring his jab and crossing her arms across her chest, tail flicking behind her.

The Glalie gave her a look that said _just how stupid are you? _"How to begin to get a peace treaty, that's what. I thought it'd be obvious enough for even your tiny brain to figure out," Polen explained, slowly, as if speaking to a child, ceasing to pace and instead hoisting himself on his desk in a most undignified matter. "Tell me you have some ideas, because for the first time in my entirely amazing existence, I only have a few."

"Gee, let me stoke your already giant ego and say no," Oriole said sarcastically, before adding, "Why would you need ideas? Just make some public announcement."

"Oh, Oriole, I pity your few brain cells." The Furret rolled her eyes, knowing that Polen was just trying to irk her; they had met years ago and had already established that their intelligence was on par. "You are truly lacking the strategic department, it seems. Figures, seeing as you are a simple Furret, of course." Polen was shaking his head in that irritatingly patronizing manner of his, and then he told her, his tone friendly, "If I do so, no doubt there will be an 'accident' and I will lose my life, which we obviously can_not _have. Please, try to think for once, Speaker of Victini."

Oriole gritted her teeth. She hadn't forgotten how irritating the Glalie was, but it appeared she had forgotten just had annoyed she would get in the first place. Right now, she had to resist the very strong urge to slap the smirk off of his face.

"Fine, then. Again, let me add to your giant ego and say - " Here she indicated quotation marks with her fingers - "Why, Speaker, grace me with your wonderful ideas."

"Oh, Arceus, don't call me that," Polen said automatically, and then fell uncharacteristically silent for a moment. After that moment he was back to his normal irritating self, and said, "It's simple, really, my dear Oriole."

Oriole considered punching him in the jaw for that _my dear_ line, but wisely chose to refrain. "Yes, that's lovely, now what is it?"

Polen gave her a smirk as he said, "We have to be quiet about this – can't let the public know, you see. I'm sure you are intelligent enough to know the consequences of an angry mob." He crossed his long, slender legs under him until he sat criss-cross on the polished wood on his desk. "We'll have to send a runner over to the Speaker of Arceus to see if we can't work something out. After I write the actual treaty, of course."

"Of course," Oriole repeated, rolling her eyes. "How silly of me not to think of that sooner." Inwardly she was kicking herself; why didn't she make that link between the public announcement and angry mobs, it was so obvious! "Do you need any help with that, or should I return to my branch?"

"No, don't go." She blinked at the desperate tone, looking up to search his face, but Polen was looking away so she couldn't read his expression. "Please, stay. I… as much as I hate to admit it, I do need company right now."

She peered at him, curious, but remained seated and instead changed the subject after a pregnant pause.

"Polen, if you don't mind my asking, which branch were you from, originally?"

He flashed her a toothy grin, his breath clouding in the warmer air. "I was a Sword of Keldeo, however hard that may be to believe. Except, of course, I dealt with ice rather than water."

It was hard for her to believe, just as he had said – he was so long and limber and slender and lean it was difficult to see him swinging a sword around and fighting with ice. Still, she accepted it with a nod, and said, "How do you plan to get this treaty across?"

His grin faded and he looked serious for once. "That's the complicated part, and also the part I was hoping you could help me with."

She arched an eyebrow. "Oh-ho, what's this? Polen Hawtis, asking for _help_?" She placed a hand over her heart mockingly. "I am so flattered."

"Shut up, Oriole." He sounded amused, though his expression remained serious. "Honestly, the Speaker of Arceus is pretty much an ass. I have no idea how to approach it with a guaranteed result."

"You mean, without a guaranteed _positive_ result?"

For once she had gotten under his skin; his lips dipped in the slightest scowl. "Shut up and help me, you stupid Furret."

"Fine, fine." She leaned forward on the desk and drew a paper and pen to her. "Let's see what we can do."

* * *

**Credits:**

Vee **is mine.  
**

Nero** belongs to **BladeOfTheEclipse**.**

Xander** belongs to **AtmosBreak**.**

Nightingale **is **SparkLuxLucios**'s OC.**

Rein** is **Silverdragon98**'s OC.**

Rhy** is from **stelladog009**.**

Luco **is from **AshKetchumDarkSide**.**

Spark** comes from **Tisuro**.**

Silver** is from **BalancedHex1232**.**

Pepper** is **xXViridianPhoenixXx**'s OC.**

Hikaru** is from **Nightfall00**.**

Yue** is from **xiLovePandas**.**

Zila** is from **TheGlaceonFanatic**.**

**********Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**


	8. 6 - Success

**Chapter 6, or Success.**

**What's this, an update? Yep, it's an update, it's a true, magnificent, written-over-a-period-of-three-weeks-and-therefore-could-use-some-work and hastily-edited-one-time-before-it-was-posted update. Fortunately, no one was very demanding so I didn't feel too much pressure to get this up very quickly... you're all either very nice or just don't care. I sincerely hope it's the former. And be happy, this is longer than the usual 6,000 or so... it's kind of bordering on 8,000...**

**Thanks for all reviews! You make me so happy :) And thanks for new follows and favorites, it's just so awesome to see people like this that I could cry tears of joy.**

**Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**

**Edit 2/6/13: minor fixes.**

**I don't own Pokemon!**

* * *

Sneaking into the Temple of Arceus was pathetically easy. Then again, he was a ghost. And then again, he was in a hurry, and then again, he didn't pay heed to the citizens who shrieked in surprise when he simply passed right through them, his skin lending them a sudden, violent chill.

But what did he care? He had work to do. And in any case, he was dead, and no one could really argue with someone who was dead. Especially someone like him, who had been dead for more than a century – more than two centuries – and was still floating around on the real world, getting things done. But that was besides the point.

So he went ahead and snuck into the temple, merely passing through walls and hiding in the shadows when Servants of multiple branches walked by, pink irises intent on them before shifting in the direction he knew the office of the Speaker of Arceus rested. He was almost caught, once, when a Budew caught the flash of light reflected off of his eyes and looked over to his location; but by then Rhy had already floated past the dual grass- and poison-type, expressionless, not caring in the least when his shoulder brushed the Budew's and the Pokemon jumped in surprise.

He was gone by the time James spun around, and thus failed to notice when the other Pokemon began to hurry back to the office he had just left, intent on telling Niko what had just happened. Unlike most Pokemon, the Budew was one to know when a ghost was in the building. He hadn't missed the pink eyes, which meant they belonged to a Misdreavus. And only one Misdreavus would have the audacity to sneak into the building, and that was why James was hurrying to tell his Speaker, for he knew that, for whatever reason, Niko did not like the Speaker of Mew at all.

Still, Rhy arrived at the place before James did, knocking once politely before simply going through the door – summoning his fingers into a tangible state in order to turn the door's knob, instead of just his knuckles to rap against the wood, was an effort he did not deem necessary at the moment.

Niko looked up at the knock, mouth open to say "Enter", saw the blue-green robes, and jumped to his feet, aiming a bolt of electricity at the place where Rhy was currently floating. The Misdreavus merely summoned a screen of light, and the attack was deflected, sparks dancing across the Light Screen as it faded. "That is no way to greet a fellow Speaker, Niko," the ghost reprimanded gently with a small smile, floating downward so his feet rested on the carpet – though as always, they passed right through the plush fabric.

Niko glared, hard, blue eyes hard as stone. "I should have figured you would come calling," he said coldly, sitting back down and placing his elbows on his mahogany desk, his forehead resting on his interlocked fingers, hiding his eyes. "What is it you want this time around, Rhyne?"

"An excellent question. Allow me to go straight to the point." The Misdreavus's small smile widened a touch, not that Niko was paying any attention. "I am sure you are aware of the Flame Riders."

"Of course," Niko snapped back, raising his head just enough so Rhy could see his icy blue irises under his brown hair. "I am also aware of your positioning within their ranks."

"Someone has done their homework, I see. Well done." The Pachirisu across from him shifted, irked at the ghost's condescending tone, as Rhy continued with the patronizing smile, "I have a proposal to make."

"I do not want your help," Niko responded stonily, now opting to lean back in his chair so he could glare properly at the Misdreavus. "I have things under control."

"If that were true, then we would not have had to help at the clearing near Solaceon earlier today." Rhy's pink eyes seemed to illuminate with intensity, and they never flickered from the other Speaker's face. "If that were true, this war would be over." Niko remained silent, his expression giving away nothing, his eyes glittering with disdain. Rhy was not quite finished, though. "And if that were true, Niko, then perhaps you would have already tried to reach an agreement with the Order of Kyurem, yes?"

He struck a nerve there, and Niko reacted violently. "It is not my fault they choose to murder my runners," he snarled, slamming his hands on his desk as he came to his feet once again. "I've tried, multiple times. I am not stupid!"

Rhy merely raised an eyebrow, crossing his pale arms over his blue-green robes. "If you are not stupid, then, why did you not send a ghost en lieu of a living Pokemon?"

Niko's jaw seemed to work, and his lips formed words, but no sound came out. After a moment of this wordless speaking he slumped back into his seat, fingers rubbing his temples, and muttered, "I am such an idiot."

"You need to rest, Niko," Rhy told him, taking one step forward, robes fluttering silently around him as he did so. "You are not thinking and processing properly."

"Perhaps, but there is no time," Niko replied with a hint of frustration, exhaling loudly through his nose as he did so. "There is simply too much to do, too many people to reassure, too many services." He blew air through his teeth. "Too many damn things to do!" The last part came as a shout, and the Pachirisu seemed surprised at his own outburst; slowly, he leaned forward on his desk, supporting his head with a fist.

Rhy's eyes glowed for a moment, and in a few seconds his already-pale skin became even paler, if that were possible, while Niko sat up just a little bit straighter. "Pain Split," he said softly, and the Pachirisu, after a tense silence, nodded in gratitude. Rhy then swept on to the heart of the matter by saying, "Which brings me to my proposal, if you would be so kind as to listen."

Niko sighed, now using both arms to support his head and giving the ghost got a good view of the dark circles underneath his eyes. "Tell me, then," he said tiredly, looking very much the exhausted leader he was. "What's this plan of yours?"

There was a knock on the door, a call of "It's James, sir." Niko seemed to seethe for a moment, most likely due to all the interruptions, before raising his voice and saying, "Come in," casting a glance at Rhy that told him to hide for the moment. Rhy obliged, floating backwards until he was close to the wall by the door; as the door opened he then went through the wall into the hallway and waited, able to hear the conversation.

"There is a ghost in the halls, Speaker." The Budew's voice was surprisingly light, as if having a stranger, an unauthorized Pokemon, in the building was not unusual.

"I am already aware, James. He had already visited, though it appears he left when he heard you coming."

"Believe what you like, sir, but I am quite sure he is merely biding his time in the hallway. Because you told him to, sir."

One of Rhy's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. _This James character is more observant than I thought._ Rhy reentered the room behind the Budew, silently, but when Niko's eyes flicked to him James automatically turned, poised to attack him, hand glowing a soft green in preparation for a Giga Drain attack.

Rhy gave him a cool look and said, with his tone matching the Budew's light one from previous moments, "That is a bad idea. A very bad idea, might I add."

James pursed his lips but relaxed his stance, looking over at Niko for commands. When the Pachirisu merely scowled and waved a hand, James seemed to roll his eyes before exiting, shooting Rhy one last cautious glance before the door closed. Once it had, Rhy coughed delicately into his fist before saying, "As we were talking about, the proposal. Perhaps there will be no interruptions so I may actually describe it in its entirety to you."

"Perhaps. But not if you seek to delay describing it with pretty words." Niko had his eyes narrowed and was drumming his fingers on the wood of his desk. "Spit it out, or I swear to Arceus I will call my Assassins to kill you, again."

"Charming, but impossible." Rhy replied with the patronizing smile in place, eyebrow quirked once more. "Though in your eyes, it is a pleasing image, I am sure – "

The attack was so sudden Rhy barely dodged with an jerky shift to the left, the bolt of lightning streaking past his shoulder and striking the papers on the wall. They did not catch fire; instead, all that fell to the ground, slowly, languidly, was ashes. The Misdreavus dusted himself off, though there was entirely no need seeing as he was intangible, as Nico growled, "I'm giving you one last chance, Rhyne."

The ghost raised his hands in surrender and proceeded to go straight to the point. "As you know, I am quite old. I have seen the rise and fall of certain civilizations, as well as many wars develop and end. As such…" Rhy floated over to the walls, where Niko had recently tacked up a map of the region over the many papers around the room, and traced a line from the Temple of Arcues to the Temple of Kyurem. "I an quite knowledgeable in war strategies."

The only response he received was silence, and he took it as a sign to continue. "With the Flame Riders, I believe that we can plot out a strategy that would end the war far more quickly with far less casualties than what you are doing now." Niko bristled at that, but Rhy swept on. "Thus, my proposal is as follows: give the Flame Riders complete control of your warriors, so that we may pit them in the correct places."

"And in return?" The tone was carefully guarded.

"In return," Rhy said, folding his fingers neatly in front of him, "We will end the war rapidly, with minimum casualties, as I have already detailed for you. After the fighting has ended, you may finalize a treaty."

Niko was silent for a few minutes, contemplating, fingers tapping out the Fibonacci sequence on his desk, that much the Misdreavus could tell. The ghost simply observed the map, pink eyes narrowed, thin, pale arms crossed over his chest and blue-green robes.

Then the Pachirisu gave Rhy a curt nod, gaining the ghost's attention immediately. "Very well. Bring your Riders in. I will direct you to the Speakers of each warrior branch so that you may use them as you will."

Rhy kept his surprise to himself; he had been certain more arguments were to be made for the Pachirisu to accept. In any case, he kept his suspicions private and instead nodded, saying quietly, "They will be here soon, and by that time I would like to have all the Speakers together in one room. Can you do this for me?"

"Naturally," Niko replied, in a slightly out-of-character cocky fashion. "I shall be expecting good results from you, Rhyne."

The ghost smiled at him. "And you shall get them, Speaker of Arceus."

* * *

It was especially weird for Luco to enter the building that was built for the sole purpose of revering Sinnoh's native deity.

Well, no, the entering part wasn't weird – as the Speaker for Celebi, he had come here himself on occasion to meet with all the other Speakers. Actually, no, well, he saw Rein and Rhy on a regular basis, so it was only for the Speakers of Arceus and Kyurem that the whole meeting was really conducted for. But he had never been so deep in the Temple, and never had he imagined talking to the Speaker of Arceus as if he knew what he was doing and not the other way around.

It was even stranger to realize, only just then, that the Speaker was of the same species as himself, Pachirisu. Then again, it had only been a couple of years since he'd become Speaker of Celebi, and as he went into the small office they briefly locked eyes, the Speaker's blue ones filled with something Luco could probably describe as amusement. He decided not to worry about it and instead returned his focus to Rein, who was decidedly ignoring him with her back to him.

Unbeknownst to her, though, when her back was to him, so was her butt. And Luco didn't mind the view, at least until Vee smacked his shoulder and he began to pay attention to what Rhy was saying. Something about taking command of the Arceus branches, and how each of them would be needed to oversee certain parts of the army – minus Nero, of course, whose mastery of strategy would be very useful in planning.

Oh, and minus Vee, too, because the Shedinja couldn't stand blood and wasn't able to kill people, despite being one of the members of the Riders who had been there for more than five years. But that might be a problem because, according to Xander – before the Swellow had completely withdrawn into himself, that is – Vee really disliked Niko for whatever reason.

He made himself pay attention to the words when Rein asked, "So tell me, Speaker, what exactly have you been doing, strategy-wise?"

The Speaker of Arceus gave a sharp glare in Rhy's direction, something no one, not even Xander in his shell-shocked state, missed. "Apparently, not enough," he growled scathingly, and the Misdreavus did a spectacular job ignoring him, instead sticking another tack into the map on the wall. "Which is why you are here."

"Which is why Nero is here," Nightingale corrected – he had recovered from whatever happened earlier in the day, Luco had noticed, though the Weavile was still missing the bounce in his step. "He's the one who's important."

Nero tucked his hands into his pockets, his tall frame hunched over and his dark hair hiding his eyes. The Gallade did not like attention from people, except maybe from Vee – but everyone liked Vee, simply because she was just sort of there for everyone when they needed her – and Luco sympathized with him. Having the Speaker of Arceus, of which the Gallade served, look at him like that would no doubt be nerve-racking.

Niko, after a haughty pause, then addressed Nightingale with a stiff, "Very well then, that is why _he_ is here." He turned to glare at the ghost floating in his office. "So you do not take part in planning the strategies, Rhyne?"

"Of course I do," Rhy replied absently, still examining the map – he'd been at it ever since they entered the room. "I taught some of which Nero knows, though he learned almost exclusively from another source. He has shown me a few tricks."

Again, Nero dropped his visible eye to his feet, and Vee pushed up to stand next to him in a small act of moral support. Luco was once more reminded that had yet to figure out how the Shedinja managed to get close to everyone including Nero, the most silent, unfriendly person the Pachirisu had ever met.

"Very well," Niko snapped, and then he leaned back in his swivel chair with a sigh. "The Speakers of each branch are gathered in the conference room by my door – right next to it, in fact, though I believe James will show you the way. I assume that the Speaker of Darkrai will be a little late, however, for at the moment he is occupied with some new priests. Off with you; there is work I must attend to."

Rein imitated the last part under her breath – "off with you, there is work I must attend to" – and her neighbor, Xander, cracked a grin. Luco was surprised how she made it rhyme and how Niko somehow made sure it didn't, as the seven of them tromped out the door and into the hallway. A Budew was waiting to lead them, presumably James, and the Riders followed him to the conference room, where he opened the door and ushered them inside before leaving without a single word directed at them.

Luco immediately took a seat besides Rein, resting his hands on the table in front of him and interlocking his fingers. He really had no intention of listening to the meeting, with so many somber people in robes around him, but realized with a sigh that he would have to when Rhy took the spot next to him.

It was going to be a long time before he could stand and stretch, that much he knew.

* * *

"So in essence, Vee and Nero will remain here and keep an eye on progress. Rein, Nightingale, you'll be going here – " Rhy indicated their destination with a finger against the map flat against the table – "While Luco and Xander will be going here. I will going to the Temple of Kyurem." He paused and looked around at the table, where Speakers from all other branches in the Temple of Arceus were silent and paying rapt attention. "Are there any questions?"

Luco raised a hand, and Rhy gave him a severe look before saying, "Yes, Lucas."

"Could you repeat where I go again?" he asked with a yawn. All of his fellow Riders either rolled their eyes and gave him reproachful looks, while some of the Speakers present tittered, but he ignored them and instead focused his attention the Speaker of Mew. He amended after a moment, "I mean, where which of Arceus' branches go. Which ones I'm commanding."

"I already went over this, Lucas, and I would appreciate if you pay attention this time around." The Pachirisu nodded, and the Misdreavus gave a slight shake of his head, knowing that only luck would be able to hold the other Pokemon's attention, before speaking. "Nero and Vee will be responsible for sending fighters to chosen locations. You will roam around the area I have given you, and if you see those warriors you will direct them in battle."

"Sounds tedious," he commented, and then nearly blacked out when a hand chopped against the back of his neck; Rein, in a form of retribution.

"Perhaps it is, but it needs to be done. We are relying extensively on Nero's psychic abilities in order to communicate, however, so pay attention when you get a message from him."

"Does it sound like a little pissed off voice in my head?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Nero shot him a look that told him exactly what the Gallade thought of that comment, and Luco merely shrugged. Vee and Nightingale, however, were laughing silently, and he gave them both a wry grin before looking at Rhy again.

The ghost was exasperated, he could tell; the Misdreavus had the whole narrowed-eyes- pursed-lips thing going. "Just do your job, Lucas. Honestly, I can't believe you were chosen to be the Speaker of Celebi."

"I'm awesome, don't be ridiculous," Luco retorted, to which Rein muttered something quite rude under her breath, earning yet another giggle from both Nightingale and Vee. Nightingale giggling, he decided then, was certainly something he did not want to see or hear again. "Do I have to walk there?"

"How else are you going to travel?" Xander asked, and then he smirked, fluttering the feathers on his wings. "Seeing as you don't have wings…"

Luco sent a half-playful spark in the Swellow's direction, and the bird flinched with a yelp. Luco smirked at him before saying, slowly and deliberately, the words sending chills up everyone's spine, "Shut. _Up_."

* * *

The atmosphere was enough to make him choke. That, and, oh, you know, _one of his best friends had died_.

His vision was tinted red at the edges, and he was positively shaking with fury, and only Pepper's iron grip on his arm kept him from flying into a frenzy of violence and anger and hurt, _it hurt_, Arceus dammit, _why her and why not him_. He was the older one, he was supposed to be protecting them, she was only fourteen, for fuck's sake, only _fourteen_, what kind of cruel deity would take a girl like her off the face of the planet –

Right then and there, everything changed. And then the thought roared into his mind, searing past all others, flashing lights in his eyes, blinding him from everything else:

_The gods have abandoned us. They were never there_.

Why else would Mew give up one of its most faithful servants? Why else would Celebi not give him an indication that Spark had gone in peace?

Whoever said life wasn't fair, they were right.

* * *

Yue was in the lead once more, and even while walking purposefully forward she didn't miss the frequent looks both Hikaru and Zila were sending to the small Minccino and his Electivire companion. She wouldn't, after all, seeing as she was doing the same.

She was half-worried Pepper would lose control of her friend, and the mood Silver was in would be… dangerous, to say the least. Despite his size (four foot ten inches! She felt sorry for him) he didn't seem like a weakling, and she wasn't eager to have to fight someone so young.

Actually, he was sixteen, wasn't he. Pretty much her age. _Eh, well, same difference_, she thought to herself, just as Hikaru nudged her with his elbow. She winced away, rubbing at the sore spot – how was it even possible to have an elbow that sharp, anyway – as he held up his little book, with words written in it, to her face.

_We can't just go through the front gates_, he had written, and she slowed so she could read the tilted lettering better. _They know our faces. We have to sneak in_.

"I imagine you have an idea on how to do that," Zila said from besides her, and she jumped, having not even noticed him sneaking up. She glared at the Zoroark who sent her a gentle smile in return, and she blinked, wondering why he wasn't wearing his customary smirk. "Seeing as you're a ninja and all."

Hikaru gave them both an offended look, one that said _who do you think I am_, before stepping in front of Yue and veering off course, instead towards the city walls rather than its entrance. The Arcanine knew he was leading them towards the rocky bluffs that overlooked the place, the ones that were impossible to climb down, and wondered just what in the world the ninja planned on doing.

It turned out that the Accelgor knew of a small path that led into the Veilstone through said rocky bluffs. It was steep and required them to go one at a time in a line, but it got the job done, and sooner than Yue thought they would be they were in Veilstone. Or at least near Veilstone – they were on the outskirts, outside of the tall walls that had been erected to protect the townsfolk. In this part, however, a hole had been formed, hidden by brush which Hikaru showed them with a touch of pride. But Pepper stopped them before they could go any further.

"You need to hide your faces," she said, keeping her grip on Silver's arm as he continued mumbling incomprehensible words to himself. She shot Silver a worried look before lowering her voice and saying, "Everyone knows you here, and from what I've heard, Veilstone isn't the greatest place to be a criminal in."

Yue frowned, realizing the girl was right, but the only thing she could think of that would change her appearance was to cut her long, black hair – and she really didn't want to do that. She _was_ wearing a hoodie, but she wasn't sure a hood would help much... "You have any ideas?"

Pepper looked over at Zila, whose cloak had now shifted to cover his entire body; he was formless in the black material, and it whispered and flowed like actual cloth would, displaying how much more effort he was putting into the illusion. "I was thinking Zila might be able to do something, but now I'm not so sure." She reached over and pulled up Yue's hood, and the Arcanine parted her tresses so there were equal amounts of hair on each side of her face as the Electivire murmured, "That will have to do for now."

Hikaru was pulling the bandages away from his face, lightning fast, efficiently, somehow tying the pink fabric into a sort of scarf in what appeared to be an effort to replace his dark blue one. Yue got one look at a sharp, chiseled face before it was hidden under the pink, and he adjusted his own clothes so he could make a hood of sorts, which he tugged over his head.

"Silver," Pepper said quietly after nodding at Hikaru – his disguise passed for the moment – and the Minccino glanced up to meet the younger girl's eyes. Yue shivered at the look on his face; it was completely void of expression, but the eyes themselves burned with fear, and passion, and sheer anger. "Concentrate for a moment. You've looked at the map here. Where do we go?"

The Minccino cast a quick glance around, jaw set, then looked up and seemed to judge the position of the sun for whatever reason. The motions seemed to calm him down, and his voice was level as he murmured, "The Temple of Arceus is the largest building in the north-east sector of the city. There's no way we can miss it."

"Which way, then?" Zila asked in a low voice, folding his arms over his chest – Yue could hear it rather than see it happen, as the cloak covered his entire body.

"This way." The small Pokemon led them forward into the hole, and soon they were on the cracked and dirty streets of the slums, clinging close together and ignoring the other Pokemon down on their luck or jeering and talking to each other. _It's a good thing we have lots of people_, Yue thought privately; she didn't want to imagine what would happen if Pepper and Silver had been here on their own.

And then she blinked, surprised at herself, as they continued on, following the Normal-type. Since when had she become so attached, she wondered, to these two kids, a little naïve and friendly and still retaining innocence, of a sort? Though looking at Silver proved that he was becoming more like the rest of them – more jaded, cynical perhaps. He was definitely angry, and she mused to herself, _that could be a good thing as well as a bad thing_.

In any case, they exited the slums very quickly with Silver's help, and were in cleaner areas, the middle-class areas, and it was here that Yue relaxed her stance – which she hadn't realized she'd been tensing in the first place. Obviously, it had been much too long since she'd last been in the city, if she'd been so cautious like that. Looking over at Hikaru, she could see he had the same realization as his strides grew smoother and he tugged the edge of his makeshift scarf over his nose.

Then Silver stopped at a crossroads, where numerous other Pokemon were wandering the streets. "Hospital to the left," he said after a moment, and Yue could tell he was listening for sounds rather than looking at signs for guidance. "The Temple is at the right somewhere."

Hikaru surged forward then, stepping lightly and quickly, and though confused Yue and Zila quickly followed, leaving Pepper and Silver to trail behind them. Then the Arcanine saw why the ninja had done so; people in what looked to be official clothing were passing, and they looked tough, as if they fought often – which probably meant they were a sort of mercenary police force, bounty hunters even. Hikaru had gone straight into an alley and was pressing himself against the wall, and Yue and Zila, after exchanging glances, quickly followed suite.

Pepper, thank Arceus, was intelligent and thinking rationally enough to pretend she and Silver didn't know them, instead leaning on the corner of the alley at which the other three stood, talking to Silver. The Minccino seemed to have cooled off some, as she no longer was restraining him by the arm, but Yue resolved to remain cautious around his presence. Abruptly Zila grabbed her shoulder and pressed it against the wall, and she realized she had been leaning forward to look for the mercenaries. She nodded at him in thanks and again, there was that strange smile. _Is he planning something?_

As soon as the group of Pokemon had passed Hikaru peeled himself off of the wall, coming forward to stand next to Pepper and Silver. Yue started forward as well, but Zila stopped her with a light touch on the arm and a hiss of "There's someone watching us."

"Of course," Yue muttered, reaching out and tapping Hikaru's shoulder and whispering Zila's warning. The Accelgor mirrored her reaction, rolling his eyes, before tugging Pepper and Silver into the alley with them where they stood in the shadows, confused.

"Can you hear anything?" Zila asked Silver, though it was obvious it took some effort to ask – the Zoroark prided himself on his sharp hearing, but as a Minccino the kid had better ears. "'Cause all I can hear is the crowd moving around out there."

Silver froze in place for a moment, eyes closed, his breath stilling until he seemed to be a statue. Yue made a brief note that if that was how a Minccino focused on hearing things, she should try it out too. "Well," he said after a moment, opening his eyes and looking down the alley, "There just happens to be a Ghost-type here."

Yue glanced at Zila, who returned it with a dumbfounded look in his eye - _how in the world did the guy figure that out?_ Pepper didn't seem affected, and though Hikaru was a normally stoic person no one could miss the way his eyebrow quirked upward a fraction of an inch. The reaction was clear: that had been impressive, hands down.

"I can't tell what type, though," Silver continued, "and I can't even see them, so I'm assuming it's intangible right now for whatever reason." He scratched the back of his neck with a nail-bitten finger, ruffling the silver hairs on the nape of his neck. "And it can hear every word I'm saying."

"She," an unfamiliar voice corrected, and all five snapped their heads to the main street, where a blonde was leaning again the wall Silver and Pepper had just left. "And I can't go intangible, actually. Other than that, though, you were right on, kid."

"Wait a minute," Zila whispered as the girl approached them with a few precise steps, and Yue looked over to him as he muttered, "I know her…" He raised his voice and stepped forward, his cloak lending him an ominous look – you couldn't see any part of his face, as it was shadowed, though his bright yellow eyes were visible. "You're… part of the Flame Riders. I remember you."

"Hey, whoa, keep it down," the girl responded hastily, reaching out and giving the Zoroark a sound smack on the muzzle. Yue bit down on laughter, knowing Zila definitely didn't appreciate it as he growled in annoyance. The ghost-girl, however, ignored it and asked him instead, "Do I know you?"

There was another pause before anyone spoke - and then Zila shrugged. "Um… in a sense?" The Arcanine could see Hikaru surprised at the Dark-type's hesitance, and she was as well, considering how loud the Zoroark could be. "My Speaker once sent me to hunt you guys down - not sure if you'd remember. That was years ago."

"Hm." There was silence for a few moments, an expectant one, that was broken when the girl said thoughtfully, "Wait, wasn't that when… the year that Nero and Rein did that, and Luco was doing that, yeah, and - oh, I remember. You were that cute little Zorua who got his butt kicked by Rh – er, one of my fellow Riders." The blonde grinned, crossing her muscular arms over her chest. "Good to see you're still alive. Test subject forty-two, wasn't it?"

"Can I ask why you didn't share the fact you knew one of them sooner?" Pepper interrupted, shooting Zila a dirty look.

Zila returned it. "I mentioned it in Hearthome, didn't I?" At his friends' dubious looks he gritted his teeth and muttered, "I thought I did."

The girl across from them laughed, floating a few inches in the air. "Hey, no worries, I'm not here to hurt anyone." She peered over at the group with intelligent green eyes. "Although I think… hey, don't you have a bounty on your head right now?"

"Uh." Yue brought her fingers to her forehead with a sigh, thinking, _Way to go, Zila_.

"We'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone they're here," Silver piped up, jerking his head over to Hikaru, Yue and Zila. "They're really not as bloodthirsty as they're made out to be in the papers."

The blonde girl grinned at Silver, her round face lending her a look of innocence, somehow, though her eyes were anything but vicious. "What's stopping me from doing just that, dude?"

Pepper's voice was quiet, but Yue could hear it as she murmured, "Should I even ask how he managed to read the newspaper even though we've been traveling through forests for the past few days?"

Silver had been giving the ghost-girl a look, and he ignored Pepper's comment as he spoke. "Seeing as you haven't done it yet, I have reason to think it won't happen anytime soon."

The blonde grinned outright at that. "Good answer." She touched down on the ground, walking elegantly and quickly towards them so she was in the alley, and hidden from passerby, as well. "What's your name?"

"Tell us yours, first," Pepper said smoothly, giving Silver a hard jab to the ribs when he opened his mouth. The girl didn't miss it and she her grin became a wide smirk before she responded.

"You can call me Vee. I'm a Shedinja. Nice to meet you." She stuck out a hand and shook with first Pepper and Silver and next with Zila, who happened to be closest to the pair. "Especially you. It's been a while, but I do recall something about you, forty-two – the only successful experiment the Order of Kyurem had, apparently. Is that an honor?"

"Depends on how you look at it," Zila said after a moment, and Vee's grin widened. "And my name is Zila, you know."

"Forty-two, Zila, same difference." The Zoroark sighed but didn't say a word, instead stepping back to let Yue take over. "Who are you?"

"I'm Yue, and this is Hikaru. He doesn't talk much," the Arcanine added when Vee gave the ninja a look. She met the Arcanine's eyes and, seeing the truth there, shrugged and turned to Silver.

"I'm Silver – "

"Did you know you're really short? Like, even I'm taller than you, and I'm practically the shortest person on the planet." Vee put her feet on the ground and could peer quite clearly over his head. "Geez, you must not be even five foot! I feel for you, dude." Silver muttered something under his breath, but didn't say anything otherwise.

"I'm Pepper," the younger girl said quickly to break the awkwardness, giving the Shedinja a cautious look. "And the main reason why Silver and I came out here is to find the Flame Riders."

"Really now." Rather than careful, Vee looked more curious. "I see. And since you've met me, what exactly would you like to happen next?"

Pepper and Silver exchanged glances, but it was Yue who said with a shrug, "Well, they do want to join your ranks, so I'm assuming that they want you to, you know, bring them to their leader or something."

"_They_ do? That's rare." Vee gave them a careful looking-over, green eyes unreadable as she did so. Pepper didn't look like she cared in the least, but the Minccino shifted slightly under her sharp gaze. "You both seem pretty strong," the blonde said at last, lazily spinning herself in the air. "It's not really my place to do so, but I'll take you to 'my leader', I suppose. On one condition, that is."

Silver muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, something along the lines of _tests, tests, always more tests_ before asking, "And that would be?"

"Hit me once in a fight, and then I'll take you wherever you need to go. Sound fair?" She looked carefully guarded, and Yue could tell she loved combat with a passion from the way her eyes shone.

Surprisingly, it was Zila who shook his head and told them, "No, that's not fair at all."

Silver agreed. "You have the ability Wonder Guard, in case you've forgotten," he pointed out the dual bug- and ghost-type with a frown. "None of our attacks will have any effect - "

"Just for knowing that, I'll take you to him," the Shedinja interrupted with a grin, but it faded as she looked over to the Assassins and test subject. "Now, since I really don't like Niko, I'm all right with taking you guys to him just to see him flip out at have strangers from Kyurem there - but I'm assuming that's not what you want."

"We're heading out of town," Yue told her, using a simple hand gesture to gather Zila and Hikaru toward her, privately thinking to herself that this Vee character must know the Speaker well, to be referring to him as _Niko_. Zila stood at her right shoulder, eyes intent on the blonde in front of them, but Hikaru instead trotted to the end of the alley, peering out to watch for potential enemies. "We'll be leaving now, in fact, if you're taking them."

"Your loss, Veilstone's a great place," Vee remarked with a shrug, before adding at Yue's look, "My seeing you will be our little secret. Just... hm. Yue, Hikaru and Zila, right?" When the three nodded, she said, "I'll keep you in mind. I'm doing a favor for you here, so if we require your services, we might give you a call of sorts."

"How do - " Yue began, but the Shedinja raised a hand before she could continue. "Fine, don't tell me how you'll 'call' us," the Arcanine grumbled, looking back at Zila and going forward to where Hikaru was standing, silent and stealthy. "Let's get going, guys."

"Fine with me," Zila replied, and Hikaru nodded. The three adjusted their disguises, with Zila giving Pepper and Silver a nod and Hikaru ignoring them entirely. Yue, however, gave the younger girl a hug with a whispered "thanks for all of your help" and then stopped to look at Silver.

"You're an interesting person, I'll give you that," Yue said at last, holding out her hand. Silver, after a moment, took it, and they shook. "Next time we meet, I hope the circumstances will be ."

"How do you know we'll meet again?" he asked, eyebrows raised, teeth bared in a predator's grin. It was a strange look on the short Pokemon, but fitting in a way, especially considering his friend has just passed away. "Even so, I agree with that sentiment." He withdrew his hand, they gave each other that respectful look people gave each other when they admired something in the other, and then Yue looked over at her fellow Assassin and test subject and mouthed, "let's go."

And just before the three plunged into the growing crowd of Pokemon, intent on the city's southern exit, Yue could hear Vee say, "Well, let's get moving. The day isn't getting any longer."

* * *

When Vee appeared again with two Pokemon behind her, Nero immediately felt some concern and mouthed to her, "Are you all right?" When she nodded, giving him a soft smile, he relaxed and turned back to the map on the table in front of him. Vee floated up behind him, and the soft footsteps of the strangers echoed behind her.

She leaned down to his ear and whispered, mostly because the room was dead silent and it felt wrong to disturb it, "Have you seen Rhy, Nero? He hasn't left yet, has he?"

Nero shrugged, then held up his index, _wait_, and opened up his mind, using his telepathy to sense the ghost's presence. It was difficult considering the sheer amount of Pokemon concentrated in one building, but the Speaker of Mew had a very particular... feeling, so-to-speak, in Nero's brain, and soon enough he had found him, just about to leave. He shivered slightly as he made contact with the ghost - the Misdreavus's mind felt icy cold in his consciousness, unfeeling and emotionless. No one alive felt like that, so he assumed it was simply a ghost thing.

_Rhy, Vee wants to see you. She has company_, he told the Speaker of Mew. He registered the ghost's sigh and response of _I'll be there in a moment_ before turning and nodding to the Shedinja.

"Awesome, thanks." She turned away from, then turned back and said with a slight laugh, "Oh, and, uh, Nero, this is Pepper and this is Silver."

The Gallade inspected the two as Vee stepped to the side. The boy, Silver he supposed, looked vaguely uncomfortable, and his shortness was enough to require Nero to hold back a smile, while Pepper was... assured of herself, seemingly aware that she could hold her own no matter what the situation.

"Pepper, Silver, this is Nero - he doesn't talk much, as you've probably figured out." A significant glance passed between the three and Nero could only wonder what it meant. "And when Rhy gets here, you should probably get behind me."

"Why?" the girl - Pepper - asked, regarding the door they had just entered with. The Gallade chuckled quietly to himself, realizing that she did not yet know Rhy would probably arrive through the floors or walls.

"Just do it," Vee responded, and then she turned around and said, "Hi, Rhy."

It was actually the boy, Silver, rather than Pepper, who squeaked in surprise at the sight of the ghost floating through the wall. "I hope you are not going to waste my time, Victory," Rhy said, sharing a nod with Nero as a greeting before turning eyes glittering with repressed irritation and intensity on the blonde. "I was about to leave."

"It's Vee, Rhy. And - well, whatever, here. New recruits. Whaddya think?" Vee had stepped up in front of the two Pokemon and for the moment she didn't budge, forcing Rhy to peer behind her, blond eyebrows raised. "They're strong. Managed to hit me when we were fighting."

Nero gave Vee a sharp glance, which she dutifully ignored. _Almost no one can hit her in a fight_, except those who knew her flight patterns, so-to-speak, and he looked over to the other two - perhaps they had some talent after all. Except... he looked at Vee again, noticed the way she twitched, and thought with a soft inward sigh, _she's lying again_. "And you brought them here just because of that," Rhy remarked, not even phrasing it as a question, and the ghost sighed, leaning his head onto his left hand. "Why?"

"Come on, Rhy, we can use some new people. We can't be everywhere at once," Vee pointed out in a slightly patronizing tone, which surprised Nero all over again. He didn't see why she would care so much to have these two join them, not that he minded too much, but even so it was all a little odd. "Besides, look at them - no one would notice. Just think of how useful they could be, if we were to... you know. Espionage."

_So she'd been paying attention_, when Nero mentioned that there was too little information about the Order of Arceus as a whole, as well as the other Order of Kyurem. He once again gave the pair, who had remained silent, a careful inspection, realizing that the Shedinja was right; no one would notice two kids wandering around, especially if everyone else thought they were both in training.

"She has a point," he said when Rhy opened his mouth, no doubt to disagree, and the ghost closed his jaw and gave him a questioning look. "The girl is young and the boy is short enough to pass as younger than his age. If they were to be 'trainees' it would be beneficial to us. They would gain knowledge of the workings here and, if it comes down to it, in other places as well."

"That is the longest sentence I have ever heard you speak," Vee said instantly afterwards, and Nero gave her a half-hearted glare as she turned back to Rhy. "So, how about it?"

The Misdreavus shook his hand and placed his hand on Vee's shoulder, moving her aside as he came closer to the girl and the boy. "I am assuming you didn't simply pull them off the street," he murmured, looking straight into Pepper's eyes. The girl gave him a small, dreamy smile, eyes half-closed in what appeared to be simplemindedness. When he looked at the boy, though, Nero could see he was a little surprised, given the ghost's almost imperceptible twitch, and he wondered what exactly had thrown Rhy off.

"Of course I didn't. They asked me if they could," the Shedinja replied, earning startled glances from both of her companions. "They'd heard of us, and they recognized me, though I have no idea how." Vee was notoriously bad at lying, and Nero could see immediately she was hiding something. When he gave her a look, however, her eyes pleaded with him to help her hide it from Rhy, and, seeing as she was one of his only friends, he agreed, reluctantly.

_Just let them stay, Rhy,_ Nero thought to the ghost. For his part, the Misdreavus didn't even look at him, though he acknowledged that he heard with a slight nod. _I have something they could do. It would be very beneficial to us if you let me assign them the task._

"Oh, very well, they can stay," Rhy said a heartbeat later, giving Nero a hard glare as he turned and began floating away. "I am leaving now, and I am sure you can manage them." With that heartfelt farewell the ghost floated through the walls and vanished, leaving Nero and Vee to deal with the two.

Vee rubbed her hands together with a grin, leading the two to chairs across from Nero. "Well, let's get started, shall we?"

But the single thought that he heard from both Pepper and Silver was _that had been way too easy... something must be up._

He wondered if they were right.

* * *

"Do you think this is good enough?"

"You tell me. I'm not the one who has to worry about getting this wrong."

"Oriole, while I love how cute you can be when you're acting stupid, let's just be serious, okay?"

"Wait, you love how cute I am when I'm stupid? Does that even make sense? Do you _like _me?"

"Again, you're being stupid. Do you think I'd be that obvious if I liked someone? Use your brain and remember that I'm one for subtleties - "

"Says the person who blatantly insults people instead of greeting them. Or conversing. Or saying goodbye."

"I have my reasons. Let's focus, please, if they don't accept this more people are going to die."

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

"Arceus, Oriole, please. Don't do this to me. My fabulous head can only take so much."

"Okay, fine, just stay calm. Let's see. We reviewed the content, right?"

"Of course, need I remind you that you were sitting there reading it yourself - "

"I'm just trying to - Arceus, stop being so difficult, would you? I'm just establishing what we've done."

"... Right. Sorry."

"So we've reviewed content and word choice - wait, did you just apologize to me?"

"Perhaps. It won't happen again. Not in the near future, in any case."

"... So we've reviewed content, word choice, and tone. Though actually, I think this section could be a little more emphatic."

"I agree, stressing the fact that both sides have enormous casualties should work to our favor. Hm... I think a good addition would be... actually, personal pronouns might work best."

"Probably. Keep it formal, though, 'cause this is a peace treaty."

"I know, mother, I'm the one who wrote the majority of it. _'I understand that_...'"

"Write faster."

"If I had a dollar for every time - oh, wait, you didn't say 'shut up'. Never mind. _'You have suffered enormous casualties..._'"

"..."

"'_... over the period of this war, and I can safely say the same for us.'_ There, I think that sentence works much better now. The fluidity is perfect."

"I guess."

"What do you mean, you guess? There's no way they can turn this thing down, that's how perfect it is."

"Bleh, this is stupid. I wish we could just call our armies back in and be done with it."

"Wishful thinking is for morons, my dear Oriole. And I'm sure your brain can figure out the consequences if we did that."

"I'm not 'your dear'. And shut up."

"If I had a dollar for every time someone said 'shut up' to me - "

"_Shut up_." Pause. "But yeah, I do know what would happen, but I just wish life was simpler."

"Great tragedies bring great blessings, Speaker of Victini. I can tell you that firsthand, and I am sure you can as well. Now. We have to decide who should bring this over."

"... You're surprisingly philosophical sometimes, Polen."

"And you're surprisingly blunt, as well as unobservant and occasionally stupid. Come on, though, focus for a second. Who would be the best person to - Arceus, that's a stupid question. We all know who would be the best."

The two looked at each other and said at the same time, "Shuet."

* * *

**What's this, a new OC to be revealed? Yep. And others to follow. Many others to follow, I think, there's so many things I have to clarify and such and heck, I need more OCs. But only one per person!**

**Credits:**

Vee **is mine.  
**

Nero** belongs to **BladeOfTheEclipse**.**

Xander** belongs to **AtmosBreak**.**

Nightingale **is **SparkLuxLucios**'s OC.**

Rein** is **Silverdragon98**'s OC.**

Rhy** is from **stelladog009**.**

Luco **is from **AshKetchumDarkSide**.**

Silver** is from **BalancedHex1232**.**

Pepper** is **xXViridianPhoenixXx**'s OC.**

Hikaru** is from **Nightfall00**.**

Yue** is from **xiLovePandas**.**

Zila** is from **TheGlaceonFanatic**.**

Oriole **is from **SnowKiter**.**

Shuet**, who will appear soon, is from **LiteShadoeXIII**.**

**Goodness, that is getting long... until next update, I suppose. :) And I'd love to hear from you, so please, review! Even if it's a little thing, like 'I hate this so freaking much!' or something.**

**Note: OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. The submission form is on my profile and you must send OCs in by PM only for them to be accepted.**


	9. 7 - Wavering

**Chapter 7, or Wavering.**

**Edit 5-11-13: Things looked over, hopefully most typos have been corrected.**

**Edit 6-10-13 and 6-11-13: More typos caught and fixed, lines adjusted, words added/removed.**

* * *

_**OCs will be accepted for the entirety of this story. See the form on my profile and send by PM only.**_

* * *

Blade had been well aware that a showdown with Nina would be inevitable, but he definitely wasn't expecting it to be in a_ café_. It was a quaint little place with striped awnings and dainty tables decorating the front, complete with a pair of pretty little chairs for each. In the interior it was cozy and homey, bustling with life and cheerful calls of waiters and cooks, with warm brown tiles complimenting the subdued gray of the ceiling. Wooden tables with deep ruts on the corners, almost as if they had been Cut to look precisely so, only added to its appeal.

But Blade didn't notice any of this, concentrating only on the drink sitting in a white mug in front of him, noting with agitation the glass panel on his side separating him from the outdoors and trying to ignore the girl sitting across from him. They were 'debating' over hot drinks, rather than having some sort of fight to the death at which they both excelled at, and frankly, it pissed him off – enough that a corner of his lips was quirked down in what he was beginning to think was a permanent scowl.

But he still wasn't angry enough to stab her, _yet_, as Nina lazily stirred her spoon in her tea, chattering aimlessly away, one hand tangled in her scarlet locks. The amount of sugar in her 'hot leaf drink' had been shocking and he was sure she would be bouncing off the walls, and now he was convinced, through a haze of anger, that it was just making her more and more _annoying_. Arceus dammit, she had a talent on getting on his nerves…

"And that's why I'm so much better than you," she was saying, and he resisted the very strong urge to lunge forward and Slash her throat. It would be so easy; all he would have to do is lean forward, lift his hand, and run it against and through her neck, that pale little stub that was no match against his sharper nails, and there would be blood everywh – he blinked and thought that he was perhaps closer to stabbing her than he had previous thought. "Which is why next time, leave the whole thing to me."

Blade took a moment to recollect his bearings, working his anger down to a more manageable level. Then he leaned back in his chair, reaching for his cup of Pecha juice and bringing it to his lips, forcibly relaxing his jaw as he did so. "Without me, you won't be able to find them," he pointed out with exaggerated calm, briefly examining his drink for anything out of ordinary. Satisfied, he sipped the sweet juice and added with a sharp glare, "You can't track a mewling Skitty in the woods, let alone a Flame Rider."

Nina grimaced, hearing the truth in his words, and she grumbled, "Fine, I guess I need your help." But then she leaned forward and pointed her spoon at him, waving the curved metal around his face. He jerked his head back with a scowl as she said snidely, jabbing the spoon with every word, "But _I_ get to do all the killing, okay?"

Blade gave her an unreadable look for a long moment, and he celebrated inwardly when her expression became a little uncertain after a few seconds and she squirmed just the slightest bit. It was nice to know he could still unnerve her with certain actions, he reflected, and so he waited and just stared at her face, frowning, waiting for the moment when she asked, "What?"

She did, a few seconds later, and he sipped his drink again, savoring the sweet, cool flavor before saying, "I can't believe you look forward to killing people, Nina."

The Ninetales flapped a dismissive hand and didn't respond, a sadistic smile on her face, and Blade sighed, letting his cup settle lightly back onto the wooden surface. He wasn't sure if he'd ever understand her – even he had second thoughts about taking someone's life, no matter if they were part of the Flame Riders and they had killed many and all of that jazz. But Nina… He shook his head slightly and exhaled softly through his nose, lifting his cup to his lips once more and downing the liquid within. Nina was an enigma, a curiously violent one. He wondered if there was something more behind her strange behaviors.

"You know, I'm still kind of surprised that we failed to find them on the first shot," Nina said to break the silence, and Blade raised an eyebrow, impressed that she had said 'we' rather than 'you'. She didn't even sound accusing. The Scizor, howeer, instead of speaking, merely shrugged, and Nina leaned forward on the table, tea temporarily forgotten, spoon held haphazardly in two fingers. "And I killed that girl. What am I supposed to do about that?"

Perhaps she did feel some remorse, Blade thought with slight surprise, and he shrugged again and said, "You should tell the Speaker – come clean, you know?"

"If I do that, I'll lose my job," Nina flashed back, and the Scizor said nothing in response, though he steadily met her eyes. "Nico would definitely get angry that I was so hasty. And have I ever told you that no one can beat our Speaker in a rage-off?"

"Yes, many times," Blade replied, and he tapped his finger against the side of his cup, his nails clinking against the white material. "Fortunately, I've been spared the fate of reporting to him, as you're the top Assassin rather than myself."

Rather than irk her, the remark simply preened her feathers, and the look on her face was rather haughty. "I know," she said with a smirk, and Blade resisted the very strong urge to roll his forest-green eyes. "You don't need to remind me."

_You're right, I definitely don't! _There was a tense silence for a moment, as Blade stared down at his cup while the Ninetales across from him continued to sip her scalding tea. The waiter at their table, a Sawsbuck from the looks of it, was giving them a wide berth, but it was at this time that he came forward and took Blade's cup with a murmured nicety of some sort, to which the Scizor gave a distracted nod.

Just as the waiter was turning to leave, however, Nina's hand snapped out, lightning-quick, and snagged the waiter's wrist. The Pokemon, with a startled jump, looked back at her, and while Blade was gesturing for her to let go because honestly, _what the _hell_ are you doing_, but then she said with a smirk, "Well, this is a surprise. Blade, you remember Jeckyel, don't you?"

The name was familiar to Blade, and he gave the Pokemon a looking-over. Tall, around 6-foot, stocky, muscular – an experienced battler as well, if that nasty scar at his left temple to his chin was saying anything. The Sawsbuck, Jeckyel apparently, gave Nina a harsh glare. "Don't bother me while I'm working, please," he said coldly, gray eyes carefully directed away from her, and he freed himself from the Ninetales' iron grasp with a fluid motion Blade did not quite follow.

"How's that temper of yours, Jeckyel? Or should I say, Jecky," Nina called, her tone somehow condescending, to which Blade hissed at her under his breath to _shut the fuck up_. Predictably, she ignored his order, and Blade looked on helplessly as the waiter paused midstride, knuckles white around the rim of Blade's cup and threatening to crush the glass in his hand. And then Nina continued with, "We all know how_ easily_ you get angry – "

Another worker quickly came forward, a younger but good-looking boy, his hand delicate against the other's muscled arm as he led the brunet away with a quiet murmur; Blade strained to hear what the Sawsbuck said in response, but his voice was too low and the Scizor missed it. Nina continued to antagonize him from afar, though, her insults carrying on even when the younger boy flipped her the bird and the two disappeared behind an _Employees Only_ door. She only stopped when Blade reached forward and roughly grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet.

"We're leaving," he said in a clipped voice, fishing around in his pockets and leaving a generous tip to their waiter (Jeckyel, he remembered, and made a mental note of the name). His grip on the Ninetales' forearm was so tight he was drawing blood, but she didn't complain; instead, the smirk on her face grew wider, especially so as the bell rang cheerfully as they exited the building, and he felt a flare of anger.

"You are either a sadist or a psychopath or both. Do you _like_ fucking with people like that?" Blade growled, releasing her arm. Rather than wiping his nails on his clothes, he instead scoured the blood off of them using hers, a disdainful look on his sharp, angular face as he snarled, "I can't believe you sometimes."

"I can't, either, because I am a _goddess_," she said in response, and ducked to avoid his not entirely half-hearted punch. She cackled as she added, straightening up and looking him straight in the eye, "Besides, Jeckyel's so easy to pick on. His temper is legendary, have I told you that?"

She had told him a lot of things, being an incurable gossip, but this was new. "Remind me, who is he again?" Blade asked, masking his annoyance with having to ask her something with an expressionless look. When she gave him an incredulous glance he muttered, "If I knew then I might be able to understand what you mean."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, Blade, can't you pay attention?" He bit back a sharp retort as she told him, "He's some higher-up in the Order of Arceus – not a Speaker but one of their aides or deputies or whatever you want to call them." She placed a single finger on her chin, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "He's the aide for the Speaker of Darkrai, if I'm not mistaken. Kind of a dark person, if you know what I mean!"

"Right." Something pink flashed in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to see a flicker of pink fabric disappear around a corner. Whatever he was going to say next died in his throat, and at the same time Nina said, "I can smell them."

"Them being the – ?"

"Let's go."

At last, something they agreed on. He grinned at her, all tooth and fang, and gestured with his hand, already beginning to trot: "After you." She nodded at him and, with a final glance back at the café, began to sprint, nose up. He followed without another word.

* * *

"Don't worry about them, Jeckyel."

The person in question snorted, then exhaled loudly through his nose in frustration. "I know, but seriously, I wish she'd just fuck off for once," he grumbled, crossing bulky arms over a loose, gray T-shirt. Then he shot a sharp glance at the boy next to him and growled, "Tell me you don't agree, Jayden, I dare you."

"Oh, I do," the other, Jayden, agreed, nodding his head. He combed his fingers through his black hair, carefully minding the leaf-blade on his wrist, to push it out of his eyes, as he set the cup that Jeckyel had been holding moments before near the one of the café's sinks. "But she was just trying to rile you up."

"No shit." The Sawsbuck rubbed his temples with his fingers, muttering under his breath, "I hate this" before they walked back behind the cafe's main counter. The duo was gone, at least, though the boy hadn't seemed bad. Still, glancing over at his friend, Jeckyel looked a little sheepish as he said, with the tone of someone who didn't have to say it very often, "Thanks, dude."

Jayden flipped a dismissive hand, assuring him, "Not a problem." Jeckyel hissed when the leaf-blade on his wrist snagged on the Sawsbuck's sleeve, and the Sceptile across from him tugged it free with a wince, sigh, and practiced motion. "Sorry. But hey, Jeckyel."

"Yeah?"

The Sceptile cast a glance over the counter, out the window. "Wonder what was up with those two? They completely bolted, it looks like." His gaze was so intense on those walking outside that Jeckyel knew he had probably forgotten the patrons in the café; Jayden had that skill, to focus on one thing so intensely that there was no way that one thing couldn't be accomplished – or annihilated, one of the two.

The Sawsbuck shrugged in response, not that the Sceptile was looking, and then cast a few furtive glances to see if others were around. Seeing no others in close proximity, he lowered his voice and murmured, "They're Assassins. They probably just found whoever they were hunting."

Jayden considered this, tapping his chin with a slim finger. Then he nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his drab gray hoodie. "If that's the case, while I was walking to work today I saw a few of our Assassins. That's who they're probably after."

"What, really?" Jeckyel's frown deepened, and he leaned on the warm, honey-brown counter, minding the glass display that housed the café's desserts and other goodies. "What are Assassins from the Order of Kyurem doing in Veilstone of all places? My Order has their fucking _headquarters_ here."

"I guess they're on a mission or something? I dunno," Jayden replied, shrugging helplessly. He waited a moment and then asked, "But it's strange, too – why would Assassins from your Order be chasing after them? They aren't supposed to mix any, right?"

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean – how to phrase this – you serve Arceus, I serve Kyurem, and our Assassins are, like, undercover agents or some shit like that. So they don't… _meet_ each other?" Jayden nursed his lower lip for a moment before adding, "They don't try to hunt each other, is what I mean. They're, like, um…" Then the Sceptile's face lit up and he said enthusiastically, "Oil and water, that's what they're like. You know?"

Jeckyel nodded; Jayden sighed in relief, assured his point had gotten across. "Makes it especially odd," Jeckyel asserted, now outright scowling. For someone who appeared to be made entirely of brawn and anger, Jeckyel was not a stupid person – far from it, in fact. "Wonder if the Speaker knows about it."

Jayden shrugged. "Prolly not? Like, we just got a new Speaker and our top Assassins, the first and second, are still MIA. So's one of the test subjects." Jayden sighed and, noticing a splotch on the counter the Sawsbuck currently leaned against, fetched a cloth from the sink. He began to wipe the material down as he murmured, "Maybe your Assassins were offered some sort of reward for catching them and returning them to their Order or something."

"Shit just got weird," Jeckyel said after a moment, and Jayden made a small noise of agreement, continuing to clean the honey-colored counter. He then stepped outside the confines of said counter and began to wipe the glass display. The Sawsbuck went over to the table that had until recently held an annoying bitch and her not-annoying companion and noted the large tip - yep, the guy wasn't bad at all, at least he knew how irritating the girl was. He cleaned up the remaining cup and pocketed the money, and returned behind the counter before saying anything.

"S'all right if I tell my Speaker what you said about them?" he finally asked, catching Jayden's eye. The Pokemon's eye color changed with the seasons; currently, it was rusty red-brown, bright and deep, capturing the essence of autumn. He cracked a small grin at the Sceptile and admitted, "Don't wanna get off the wrong foot with you."

"As long as it's all right if I tell mine," the Sceptile responded, smiling. The two gave each other a nod, before Jeckyel left to coddle (figuratively, of course – Jeckyel hated to be touched) a sorry-looking patron who seemed to be out of caffeinated bean juice. Jayden went right on cleaning up the front counter, calling out a greeting to a young couple that entered.

Just another day doing the day job, he supposed.

* * *

Zila heard it first, but Yue was the first to react.

"Hikaru, we're being pursued," she told the two calmly, and without a word the ninja flashed past them on the stone roads, makeshift pink scarf snapping in the wind. The Arcanine exchanged a look with the Zoroark, his yellow eyes glimmering with something unreadable; then they both pounced forward, hard on the Accelgor's heels, their feet making a sort of clapping noise against the cobblestones of Veilstone City.

The Bug-type led them directly where they had left via a convoluted route of alleys and side streets, and soon enough they found themselves the slums. Yue knew it was an effort to mask their scent with the disgusting smells peppering the place, and as she thought it she scrunched her nose up in an effort to dam said scents from reaching her. "Let's get out of here," she called to Hikaru, and she saw him nod even while sprinting. He changed direction with a pretty little pivot of his foot, snapping off in the new direction without so much as a break in speed. She and Zila followed slightly less elegantly.

Soon Yue began to measure her breathing, spacing them out evenly, listening to the rapid footsteps behind them as other Pokemon called out as they raced past. They passed a bar, where drunken laughter and clinks of glasses and high-pitched giggling could be heard; they went past a small girl sucking her thumb, looking at them with wide, innocent brown eyes, her hand extended for any money that could be spared. Yue wished they could stop – but she did not want to trade her safety for the little girl's temporary wellbeing, and her regrets were forgotten when they eventually ended up at one of the side gates, sprinting past so quickly the drowsy guards had no time to react; in fact, they were still straightening up when their pursuers whipped past them as well, and saw nothing but two figures chasing three others.

"Are they the people from before?" Zila asked breathlessly, his longer legs lending him a greater stride but not necessarily an advantage. Hikaru was still ahead of them by a good distance, leaping forward with seemingly impossible speed, and while Yue was keeping up with ease the Dark-type was unsuited to such travel and was huffing and puffing.

"Yeah," Yue replied through slightly clenched teeth, focusing on pumping her legs. It actually felt pretty good; she hadn't gone for a hardcore run in a while, and her muscles were contracting and responding and moving quite pleasantly. She felt _powerful_.

"Well, they're gaining." Zila's face was shadowed but his voice was agitated as he added, "Quickly." She whipped her head back to check, her long hair forcing the hood off of her head and flowing loose in the wind. Indeed, the pair with burning, scarlet hair were moving almost in sync, their limbs a blur.

"Holy crap they're fast," she breathed in surprise, looking around again. _They must have sped up now that they aren't in danger of hitting other people_, she thought privately as she raised her voice and called to Hikaru, "It's no use, let's just – "

A heavy weight slammed into her back and she went down, hard, her hands splayed in front of her to catch herself. She couldn't roll, however, and her chin slammed into the pounded dirt with a jarring _crack_ while her left shoulder jerked painfully as she landed. "Got you," someone sang in her ear, the voice low and teasing: _Nina._ Yue could hardly see straight, let alone think, the pain was _dizzying_, and she coughed and struggled to free herself as the Ninetales laughed quietly in her ear. Bu then someone shouted loudly, nearby, and the other girl's weight was gone and she could move again. She automatically got to her feet, years of training kicking in violently like a blow to the gut, shaking and feeling her shoulder and jaw: _dislocated_ and _potentially fractured_, respectively.

Zila and Hikaru were busy fending off the guy, _shit he's fast_, and she gritted her teeth and got to business, bracing her hand on her shoulder and trying not to puke at the pain and unnatural position of the limb. Then, with a determined inhale of breath, she pulled hard on it, putting her shoulder into the correct position with an audible _pop_ that was accompanied a shriek of pain. _At least it worked_, but she was breathless with the pain, and she barely had time to gather her wits when she had to raise her arms to block a mighty kick from her opponent. It jarred her freshly located shoulder and she couldn't suppress a tiny little whimper, though she masked it with a steely look.

"Aren't you tired of this already?" she wheezed wearily to her opponent, and it came out very high-pitched and failed to be intimidating; still, she went to business, grabbing the offending foot and expertly twisting it around despite the white-hot pain running up her shoulder. Instead of losing her balance, though, Nina merely went with the turn, slapping the ground with her hand and swinging her foot free while simultaneously attempting to whack Yue with an Iron Tail. The Arcanine ducked and dodged and they circled each other, Yue frowning and Nina grinning. "What do you _want_ by attacking us?"

"Just imagine the reward we'd get for killing the Order of Kyurem's top assassin, Yue," the Ninetales responded. Her light blue eyes glowed violet and the Arcanine threw herself out of the way of a Psychic attack using Extreme Speed, countering by lunging forward and biting down with her jaws crackling with electricity. Nina bent her body elegantly, down and away, dodging the Thunder Fang with the grace of a fox. Then they were circling each other again, and the redhead's face was plastered with a smirk, her eyes shadowed as she repeated almost reverently, "Just _imagine_ it, Yue."

Yue bared her teeth, countering Nina's Energy Ball by spinning her right arm in a circle and then releasing the Flame Wheel attack into the core of the green energy. It dissipated as the Arcanine snarled, "Just because you kill me doesn't mean anything! People can take my place." She swallowed, and then she finished with a growl, "I'm a pawn, just like you."

"I am no pawn, bitch," Nina snapped back with a jagged smile that was sharp enough to peel paint, and Yue twisted out of the way of a Will-O-Wisp attack with a quick two-step. "I'm needed," she crowed, insisted even, "My Order can't function without me. And my Speaker will be especially pleased to see you dead!"

"He doesn't give a single flying fuck about your well-being!" Yue retorted, exasperated, and at the same time feeling a small twinge of pity for the warped girl in front of her. Yue had accepted her fate as disposable years ago, and had held it close to her heart should she ever become overconfident, but Nina hadn't realized that yet. The Arcanine fired another quick Flame Wheel at the Ninetales, who countered it with a blast of flames from her mouth. "If you die he'll just get Blade or some other person to take your place!"

"And if I kill you, I will be rewarded, handsomely!" Nina shot back, gleefully, dancing out of the way of another of Yue's Flame Wheel attacks, her eyes glowing violet again.

Yue just managed to dodge with another Extreme Speed, and this time came close to her opponent. Her jaws clicked shut without making contact to flesh, though, her Crunch attack failing when the Ninetales slid out of the way, and she grimaced slightly at the pain it brought before retaliating. She'd had to get her jaw checked as soon as possible, provided she survived. "It still won't take away the fact you killed an innocent, Nina. A _girl_." The Ninetales' eyes narrowed, and she growled outright when Yue added in a stage-whisper, "She wasn't even fifteen."

"Shut up!" Her anger made her messy; Yue easily spun out of the way of the hasty Flamethrower, noting the patterns the flame produced, so unlike her own. "I have my ways," Nina huffed, meeting Yue's red-orange eyes with blue ones lit up with a frenzied, furious shimmer. "It was an accident, and the Speaker will understand my reasons!"

"He won't care! You're _disposable_!" Yue shouted back, and Nina's eyes narrowed, flashing violet once more. Yue dodged with Extreme Speed once more, barely,, and this time landed a Thunder Fang on the girl's shoulder. Nina shrieked and tore herself free, leaving Yue to spit flesh and blood out of her mouth.

The Ninetales looked absolutely murderous, hand automatically clutching itself over her bleeding shoulder, as she screeched, "I don't think you understand just how much _I want to kill you!_"

Nina's bloodlust, coming so suddenly and completely, overwhelmed Yue's senses, and she struggled to focus on the girl in front of her. If she wasn't mistaken, the girl's body was – glowing with – light. This was important, but the Arcanine couldn't remember why, and she gritted her teeth as Nina shouted, "You think you're so great, you bitch? Strutting around, because you've gotten so high and come from so – fucking – _low_, do you?"

"I don't – " The world didn't make sense, all of a sudden; the terrible feeling of inpending death from the Ninetales' desire to kill swamped Yue's senses. "What are you talking about – "

"You shouldn't even be alive!" she screeched, her voice painfully shrill in Yue's sensitive ears. Yue tried to get her mind to produce coherent thoughts but was continually distracted by Nina's screams, and her temper belatedly flared up in anger at the insult when the Ninetales hissed, "Maybe _you_ are a pawn, but _I am invaluable_!"

The light surrounding the Ninetales became blinding, and now Zila was shouting at her to _move, fucking _move_ you idiot!_ before his scream was abruptly cut off from what sounded like a blow to the face – but Yue was frozen. She couldn't force her suddenly cold, heavy muscles to cooperate; instead she remained still, staring at Nina while she glared back at her with eyes are hard as ice, the blue visible in a sea of blinding light, wondering what the hell the Ninetales was talking about. And then she realized too late, _She's going to use _Solarbeam_, oh shit, that's what it was, what do I_ – ?

"This is ridiculous," she heard from her left, as she slammed her eyelids shut and threw her arms over her face. And everything went white before fading to gray, then black, unearthly silence filling the air.

She remained still as a statue for a very long few moments, her brain flat-lining and refusing to provide any input on the situation. Then she realized she felt a distinct lack of pain; _I guess I'm dead?_ she thought to herself, whimsically, feeling oddly light and giddy, and then, _well, if I can think that means I should check if I'm alive_.

She opened her eyes, blinking rapidly until the colors came into focus and became trees and branches; and then she looked down, and then confirmed to herself, out loud, "Yep, I'm alive." She had never been happier to hear her own voice.

Both Zila and Hikaru rushed over to her, Zila fretting about her in a high-pitched, panicky voice that hurt her ears, while Hikaru was staring into her eyes, moving a finger side-to-side in front of her face. _To ensure I'm still functioning properly_, she thought, and she gave him a nod to show him she was, her palms rising to cover her eras. He nodded in return and then snapped his fingers in front of Zila's face. It effectively shut the Zoroark up, for though Yue found his concern endearing, it was rather unnecessary and was more harmful than beneficial. And then the three jumped and whirled when the same voice Yue had heard earlier repeated, "This is ridiculous."

There was a younger boy standing there a few paces away, his light skin deathly pale, his blue-green robes rippling and fine blond hair stirring in a non-existent wind. His eyes were a delicate shade of pink, flat and empty and unnerving; his face was devoid of all expression except for the slightest frown. "We are near a city, you know," he said with the tone of an adult scolding a child, and his voice – it was like a young boy's voice before puberty, Yue supposed, and it sounded downright odd given the tone he was using. "There is no need for such loud noises and fighting."

"Shut up and don't get involved," Nina rasped from somewhere behind her, and once again the three spun around to see the boy, _Blade_ her mind supplied, steadying the girl as she swayed slightly, his hands clamped firmly around her lean shoulders. She continued with a scowl, ignoring Blade's hiss of something Yue didn't quite catch, "I was just about to win before you used Light Screen, you motherfucker."

"You would have someone dead on a main road?" the boy retorted, a blond eyebrow arching upwards. His demeanor matched one of someone much, much older, and Yue realized too late that he was in fact a ghost – _that explains the non-existent wind, at least_. And hey, who said she would've died from a blow like that, _presumptuous little shit_. "That would be quite troublesome, I should think."

"Who are you?" Zila asked curiously, and Yue jabbed him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. He gave her an annoyed glance but dutifully fell silent at her sharp glare, one that said _you do not randomly ask strangers for their names!_

The ghost let out what resembled a chuckle, but it wasn't amused – far from it, in fact, it sounded more annoyed than anything, and Zila shifted from foot to foot as the ghost responded. "It is strange that people still do not recognize me. As it is, though, it is really none of your business." His face sobered into its original look: void of expression. "Now must I separate you to ensure peace, or will I have to do this the hard way?"

"_Hard way_?" Nina exploded, and the Scizor – Blade, Yue remembered – held her back with a hissed command. The Ninetales ignored him. "I'll show you _hard way_, you bastard!"

She somehow freed herself from Blade with a smooth, fluid motion, twisting elegantly like a Seviper, and charged despite the other boy's shouts, blue fire flaring up to coat her fingers. With some of a battle cry, a yowl of sorts, she flung herself at the ghost, hands outstretched, her lips pulled back into a snarl. Rhy didn't even flinch, instead murmuring something under his breath that the Arcanine didn't quite catch.

Yue didn't even see what happened next; all of a sudden Nina was flat on the ground, Blade was wrestling to keep her there, and the ghost was watching the spectacle with a delicately quirked eyebrow, his hands folded neatly in front of him, a yellow and blue shimmering wall fading in front of him. He had summoned a Light Screen and a Reflect at the same time; _clever, and difficult to do_, Yue thought to herself. It was apparent he found the whole thing slightly amusing.

"Would you _think_ for a fucking _second_, Nina!" Blade was snapping, loud enough for all to hear. "I can't believe you don't recognize the Speaker of Mew when you fucking _see_ him!"

_What_?

A chill ran up Yue's spine and she instinctively shifted towards the nearest source of warmth – in this case, Hikaru. He registered her closer proximity with a flicker of his eyes in her direction, before they focused on the ghost in front of them once again. Zila let out an annoyed hiss that sounded remotely like "what the hell", though she couldn't quite fathom why at the moment as the ghost murmured, "I appear to have been mistaken."

Blade didn't respond until he finally shoved his knee onto the back of Nina's neck, his other leg bracing himself on the ground as he quite literally sat on her back. She did not cease struggling and was yelling, though it was muffled by the ground, as the Scizor told the ghost, "You and I have met before – Rhyne, wasn't it? I am Blade."

"Ah," the ghost said, seemingly contemplating; then he nodded and said, "Yes, of course. The second-tier assassin for the Order of Arceus, was it not. One of Niko's – " The ghost, Rhyne, cut himself off and continued with, "Who is this?" He indicated who he spoke of by gesturing to the girl Blade was holding down.

"I'm Nina and you better fucking remember it!" the Ninetales yowled before Blade quite crudely slammed her head down into the earth by shifting his knee to rest on her scarlet hair.

"Charming," the ghost said, and Yue couldn't help it, she sniggered. That was the most perfect thing he could have said, she was sure.

"Quite," Blade agreed, shooting the Arcanine a glance, a wry smile on his face. She realized with a little surprise that, had they not been pitted against each other, they might actually be friends. "You'll have to forgive her. She gets a little, um, excitable when she's riled up."

"Mm." Rhyne floated over to Yue and her companions – well, he made the proper stepping motions with his feet, but the Arcanine could tell he wasn't actually walking. "I recognize you three, though you may correct me if I am mistaken." He nodded to Zila, then Yue, then Hikaru, while saying, "You were the forty-second test subject, you are the top assassin Yue Wang, and you are close second Hikaru Aomori, yes?"

"Um, yes," Yue said awkwardly, when the two males didn't seemed inclined to speak. "How do you – ?"

"Connections," the ghost responded, and then proceeded to walk right through her as if he didn't give a fuck, which he probably didn't. It was like someone dumped a tub of ice-cold water over her head; she began to shiver violently when he had gone past her, and leaned even closer to Hikaru for warmth even as her internal fire worked to warm her up again. "I trust you will control your companion, Blade."

"I'll try, I mean – "

Nina freed her head from his knee and shot a fully-powered Flamethrower at the ghost from her mouth, her blue eyes hard as ice with anger. There was a flash of blinding light, and the next thing Yue could see was Rhy wiping his hands and both Blade and Nina knocked out on the side of the street.

The ghost then turned, gave them a cold look, and then proceeded to float down the road, as if he hadn't just bested two of the best fighters in the region without batting an eye. They let him, eyes wide, unmoving, until he was a mere speck in the distance. Then:

"Holy _shit_," Zila said after a moment, summing up everyone's thoughts with only two words. And then, his sharp eyes distinguishing something in the shadows of the trees before everyone else: "Wait, who's that?"

Coming towards them, a small girl with flowing brown hair and blank green eyes; floating, a tight frown on her lips, hands hidden beneath a dark, navy-blue robe. Most prominently, blood soaking the lower half of her flowing blue robe, crusting black on the edges of the ripped fabric there.

Hikaru's notebook was suddenly in Yue's face, and she squeaked before she read out loud, quietly, "A Shuppet," before looking at the girl again. She looked vaguely familiar in some way, but her features kept fading in and out of view, as if Yue were looking through a lens and the light kept bending this way and that.

She kept a safe distance away, and even though her mouth didn't move, Yue – and the Zoroark and the ninja as well, given the slight jump from Hikaru and twitch from Zila – heard the words loud and clear.

_Where am I?_ the ghost asked, her words soft and hesitant, and Yue's heart felt like breaking in half at the deep, profound sadness in her small voice.

* * *

Thoughts that weren't his own kept clamoring for his attention in his mind, buzzing around his head like flies – distracting and annoying, but too quick for him to chase them with a proverbial fly swatter. Nero idly considered stabbing himself in the chest with a knife to get him out of his misery; but then Vee settled herself besides him, her warmth emanating from her skin to his colder flesh, and he decided it wasn't worth it.

He concentrated further and finally felt the familiar sensation of Rein and Nightingale, god_damn_ they'd made it far, and it was harder considering Nightingale was a Dark-type but not impossible; still, he managed and connected his mind to them with the feeling of tying a knot, giving them a quiet _Hello_.

_Nero_, Rein thought back, while Nightingale greeted him with _'Sup_. The last one he needed to connect with would be Rhy, and he did so far more rapidly due to the ghost's close proximity. As always, touching Rhy's mind could be equated with pressing one's hand flat on a cube of dry ice; Nero gave an involuntary shiver as he slithered in and greeted his leader with _Rhy_. The ghost gave him the equivalent of a nod in return.

Nero spent a few seconds to strengthen the connections he was currently maintaining – all the Flame Riders made that six – and once positive he could hold it, he gave them all the green light and the telepathic conference went underway.

_I trust all is well on your parts_ was how Rhy began, his voice echoing emotionlessly in Nero's head – and everyone else's too, he knew. _I encountered Assassins from both the Order of Kyurem and Arceus on my path but otherwise had no difficulties._

Xander, after waiting a bit to make sure no one else was going to speak, reported next. his voice light and velvety like the feathers lining his wings. _I've arrived at the location, just outside of Hearthome. Now I'm waiting for Luco to get his lazy ass over here – _

_I'm working on it!_ Luco shot back. His voice sounded like crackling electricity, and the Gallade rolled his eyes slightly while Vee, sitting besides him, snorted, but listened quietly as the Pachirisu added, _I'm almost at the west gates, and it will take me a few hours to go around the perimeter to the east. So be patient, would you?_

Rein cut off Xander's retort by interjecting smoothly, her voice dark and low like the shadows she was so skilled in treading in, _Nightingale and I are pushing north as instructed. There's snow and shit on the ground, though, and we don't have the right equipment, so we made a detour to whatever the fuck that small town around here is called to grab what we're missing._

_Which means we'll be slightly delayed_, Nightingale added helpfully, his voice icy cold and brittle, yet maintaining a sharp edge of humor. _But we'll be pretty close to Snowpoint by the end of the day, I think._ Nero sensed a feeling of unwillingness and foreboding from the Weavile that was quickly masked, and made a mental note to puzzle over it later.

Vee went last, as Nero could not report due to the amount of brainpower going in to maintain the conversation in the first place. At least she sounded pleasant, warm and soft in his head. _Nero and I have recruited some new youngsters, and they're quite eager to learn. Other than that, James has been most helpful in supplying us with knowledge about the Order, and hopefully we'll get someone undercover in the Order of Kyurem as well._

With that Nero concluded the conference by saying in a strained voice, _I can't do this much longer, so any last remarks, you have five seconds. _

_Don't fail_, Luco said jokingly, and Nero sensed the amused feelings of the others. Even Vee gave a little chuckle at that, and Rein's thought came through as a adamant, _of course we won't, who the fuck do you think we are?_

_I know._ Silence, and Nero counted two, one, and then _But really, don't_, Luco added at the last moment, and then Nero sat back and released all the connections at once. He didn't realize he was panting until he wiped the sweat at his brow; the telepathic communication with all of the Flame Riders had taken a lot more out of him than he'd realized.

"You okay?" Vee asked, her eyebrows knitted in concern, and he nodded and closed his eyes, exhaling softly. They were in the conference room as before, except now the dark wooden chairs were all empty, save for the two he and Vee occupied. The table was of similar wood and reflected the light from the candles off the walls, while the windows captured the remaining light in the sky. He felt pleasantly tired and knew he would be sleeping like a log in the night.

They didn't say much after that, and eventually Vee sighed and murmured, "I'll go find the youngsters, I guess." She straightened up, floated over to the door, but then she did something unusual; she turned around and floated back, then proceeded to go behind him and drape her arms over his shoulders like she belonged when she really quite did not. He didn't jump, not exactly, but he struggled with himself not to freak out at the close proximity.

When he managed to keep from having some sort of hissy fit for a few minutes, and actually began to appreciate her warmth slightly, she smiled and murmured in his ear, warm air brushing against the curve of the cartilage, "Progress," and then her arms retracted and the door opened, then closed, and he was alone again.

Well, now he was completely thrown off his game, because _what the hell was that_. Girls. Honest to fuck he had no idea how they worked, and now he got a sense he never would.

To distract himself from those thoughts, he conveniently remembered something he'd been keeping in the back of his mind to bring up with a certain Rider. Now seemed to be as good a time as any, so he closed his eyes, opened his mind and traced the path through Sinnoh's land and located the one he was looking for in a matter of a few seconds: Xander.

The Swellow noticed his presence before the Gallade could say hello, a welcome change, and greeted him with _Something you forgot to tell us?_

_Not really_, Nero responded with the equivalent of a shrug, mentally of course. _Just thought I would ask you something before you and Luco go gallivanting across the wide expanse of civilized area that is Hearthome City._

He got a surprised, then pleased, vibe from his fellow Rider. _Whoa, man, were you always this snarky? _Laughing telepathically was not exactly a sound, more like a feeling than anything, but the corner of Nero's lips curled upward when he sensed it. _I like it. Sure, shoot, what's up?_

_It is – _

_Wait, don't tell me. Girl trouble?_ Now the laughing feeling was a snicker, and Nero's lips dropped into a sharp scowl. Leave it to Xander to get to touchy topics. _Let me guess. It's about Vee, isn't it? Did she ask you on a date or somethin' – _

_No,_ he responded irritably, before Xander could finish that thought and Nero could get too wound up about it, _not girl trouble, and even if it was I would ensure your long metaphorical beak stayed out of it. _The snickering feeling remained, and Nero rolled his eyes, both physically and mentally, before saying,_ I have something more important to talk about it._

_So serious!_ the bird Pokemon teased, and it was now that Nero remembered why he didn't consider the Swellow his friend: he was annoying as heck. How did anybody put up with him sometimes? _What is it?_

_I will be blunt with you,_ Nero said, and before Xander could respond he asked, _Are you perhaps questioning our leader's motives?_

_What? No!_ The response was too quick, albeit telepathic conversations were always faster considering the mind could move faster than the mouth. _No, of course not. What gave you that idea?_

_I have absolutely no clue_, Nero replied scathingly, managing as much sarcasm as he could muster – which to his surprise was quite a lot. _Perhaps it is because of that episode you had, where you chose to curl up into a ball and hide yourself with your wings, effectively bringing meaning to the non-existent phrase of 'folding in on oneself', as well as proving it is possible for a nearly grown male to sulk._ Whoa, that description got a little extravagant; Nero had no idea he had it in him, but then again, he almost never spoke out loud and the words had to go somewhere.

The Swellow sounds uncomfortable, his light voice sounded strained in his mind – if it was due to Nero's sudden long-windedness or the implications of the message, the Gallade did not know. _Um, what would you know about that – _

_I'm a _telepath_, Xander,_ Nero said patiently, and winced physically when a flare of white-hot anger washed across his mind. It appeared he had angered the Swellow, and he realized he should perhaps have gone through with it with slightly more tact. _Powerful_ _telepaths read minds when they feel like reading minds._

_You read my mind?! _Nero gave the equivalent of a nod, and the anger burned even hotter. It didn't hurt, per se, but it certainly felt odd, flames flickering mind, threatening to spill over and burn everything. _You – I would expect privacy in my own head, you know!_

_What, you thought I would not be curious?_ Nero held his contempt back from his thought-voice with the equivalent of a flick of his hand, so strong was his willpower. _I did not do anything excessive – I merely found the cause of your uncertainty, and then I withdrew. Just a prod, if you will, nothing more._

_That doesn't make it okay!_

_Perhaps not,_ Nero agreed, and then drove the point home by adding, _makes you wonder if our purpose is to really help the region as a whole, does it not?_

_That's – _Xander went silent for a few moments. Nero waited patiently, his eyes still closed, tapping a finger in time with the second on the shiny, mahogany table in front of him. Then the Swellow said with a small tone, like a child unsure if they're in trouble or not, _okay, yeah, you got me._

_Worry not, I have kept what I know from him_, Nero responded, 'him' obviously being Rhy, _and I do not plan on uttering any word you tell me anytime soon. You are free to speak as you wish._

_How can I trust you? _Nero supposed he had a point; the Gallade was aware that his personality telepathically was completely different than the one he usually sported. _You're, like, Rhy's lapdog or something._

_Excuse you_, he retorted, and then thought to him in a calmer voice, _We are comrades-in-arms, Xander. Do not think I would treat your trust as a petty plaything; it had to be earned, and I have done nothing to misplace your trust in_ _me._ Pause, to let that sink in. Then:_ What is it that is bothering you?_

_You aren't very convincing, you know_, the Swellow grumbled. The Gallade waited patiently, the tapping of his fingers becoming a syncopated rhythm that required the use of both hands (lessons in perfection meant lessons in the art of musicality, of course). After perhaps ten seconds Xander relented and told Nero, hesitant, _honestly, the way Rhy's going about doing whatever it is he does is completely roundabout and… how do I say this. Not exactly _right_, I guess? Moral?_

Nero nodded in real time, frowned, and said, _you must remember he is a ghost that has chosen to continue wandering the living world. After years of loneliness, to be handed the chance of a lifetime – to contribute to the region – you must imagine he would serve in the best way he can._

_No matter the consequences?_ Ah, here was the crux of the problem; Xander sounded utterly annoyed and unsure and worried, tied into one large bouquet and dropped into Nero's lap like a belated birthday gift. Also, he had no idea where that metaphor came from or what it even meant. _No matter who dies or is hurt?_

_I would say he aims for the most favorable outcome for the region as a whole, rather than focusing on individual locations,_ he responded, trimming and editing the words privately before passing them onto his fellow Rider. _Sacrifices must be made for the good of the masses, you understand._

_Yeah, I get that, but_… Nero frowned, leaned back before remembering the chair was hard, stiff and uncomfortable; he straightened his spine, ramrod posture, and intently analyzed the Swellow's words as he said hesitantly, _it doesn't… really make it right. Like I said before. It's still _wrong_, you know?_

_You must remember that in the end, the goal is achieved. _It felt weird, preaching to a fellow Rider like this. Nero wondered when he had figured out what his leader did himself, and he got a strange twinge of petty annoyance; why did he have to explain this to Xander when he had to work to understand it all by his lonesome? _And that is all that matters in the end – for Rhy._

_I guess. But it's still not right._

"Nero, we need you." Vee's voice in the real world jolted him into reality, eyes snapping open with a violent quiver, but through sheer willpower he didn't sever the connection with Xander. He hated being interrupted but he could never stay mad at her, so instead he exhaled through his nose and let out a mumble that sounded something like "give me a minute."

All she said was "okay" and then she came over and leaned on the back of his chair, being very perfectly distracting as he closed his eyes again.

_Apologies, Xander, but duty calls – our newest members require assistance of some sort._

_Mm. _The Swellow sighed – something he sensed rather than hear. _But, Nero… are we – no, I mean, am _I_ – doing the right thing?_

_Let me tell you something, Xander. It is a revelation that I came to upon struggling through similar confusion. _

_You, confused? Someone call the presses, we have secret evidence._

Well, at least some of his sense of humor had returned. Nero sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, and thought to him, _You don't have to be a good person in order to be a hero._

He cut off the connection before Xander could respond and slowly got to his feet; he could practically hear his joints creak like a old man's from sitting in the same place for so long. Vee caught him when he stumbled on his first step, though she quickly released him when he involuntarily flinched away. "C'mon," she says, her green eyes kind. "Silver and Pepper are waiting in the hall."

He nodded and followed her out, unable to keep the words from circulating in his head: _you don't have to be a good person in order to be a hero._

Some days, like today, he wondered if that was true.

* * *

"Do you know why you are here, Shuet?"

The Pokemon across from Polen raised his eyebrow, unimpressed, and said nothing. Oriole hid a snicker behind her hand as Polen shifted on his desk; the Glalie had taken to actually sitting on the surface itself rather than the comfortable chair behind it, and it took his professional rating down a few notches. Add the fact he was sitting cross-legged, his long limbs sticking out beneath him awkwardly like stray straw in a bale of hay, and Oriole would rank him at a four out of ten - and that was being generous.

And then she remembered too late, by the way the Lucario was looking over Polen's shoulder rather than his face, that the Pokemon was blind. Indeed, his scarlet eyes were blank and obviously sightless.

"I really haven't the faintest idea," the Lucario said with the barest hint of a smirk on his thin lips, shoving his hands into the pocket of his – his peacoat, a dark black fabric that was made of a thin, shimmering material that was flattering and beautiful, yet most likely useless. "Enlighten me, Speaker, and don't forget to use your giant ego as a cushion when I swoon from the impossible task."

"Oh, don't fuck with me now, Shuet, this is serious business," Polen replied, good-naturedly, and Oriole gave him a sharp look; the Glalie prided himself on not swearing, ever, but something about this Pokemon made him loosen his tongue. _Interesting_. "You can still find your way to Veilstone no problem, am I right?"

"I'm blind, not useless," Shuet responded, his hands coming out of his pockets and his forefingers rising to his face. His index fingers traced the twin scars, starting at the top of his forehead, sliding down through his eyes and ending a small distance above the corners of his lips. Oriole's eyes were drawn to the dull silver spikes protruding from the back of his hands as he drawled, "Don't worry your pretty little head, Speaker. As a Lucario I have skills you would gladly trade your eyes for."

"Ah, yes, auras. One day I will ask you about that. But not now; as I've said already, this is serious business." Polen looked entirely focused, leaning forward on his legs, his ice-blue polo folding neatly against his slim body. "Do you like being at war over religion?"

"Does anyone?"

_Good answer_, Oriole thought as Polen grinned and shook his head, only to brush the brown locks to the side of his forehead a moment later. "True enough. Would you be willing to accept the most important job I can possibly give at the moment?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay." The blind Lucario crossed his arms over his chest and actually tapped a foot against the ground in impatience. Oriole watched as the black boot rose up and down, rhythmically; she didn't know anyone actually did that, because it was a useless maneuver that did nothing but hurt a person's ankle after a while. "Also depends if I think it's important enough to perform."

"Being the best means you can pick your charge, yes. Very well. Hold out your hand, if you please." Polen vaulted himself off the desk with the grace of a figure skater, and the Furret could see the traces of his swordsman days in the way he moved towards the Lucario.

"If it's slimy I will kick your ass into next week," Shuet warned, but obligingly held his hand out. Polen dropped the treaty a few inches out from the Lucario's hand – _what an asshole, fucking with a blind guy_, Oriole thought with distaste – but the other easily leaned forward slightly and effortlessly caught the treaty in his palm. "What's this scrap?" the Lucario asked, touching it with his free hand, running his fingertips over the parchment. He spat a muffled curse when he skimmed a finger over the edge and earns, no doubt, a papercut.

"That, my friend, is the deal that can stop this war, so long as it gains approval from the Speaker of Arceus." Polen sounded matter-of-fact, as if there was no possibility of it not gaining approval.

"So..." Shuet's face scrunched up in annoyance. "You're asking me to be the delivery boy."

"Perhaps, but the entire region's well-being rests on your shoulder." Polen flashed an ice-cold grin, though Shuet couldn't see it, and Oriole readjusted her positioning from her perch on his desk, watching the spectacle with interest. "Think you're up to it?"

"You're askin' me?" Sharp teeth bared in an equally stony smile, and the parchment literally disappears up his sleeve or something – Oriole didn't quite catch what happened. "Please, Speaker, you know who I am."

"There's no one better for the job," he agreed, and then he made a shooing motion with his hand. Oriole opened her mouth to point out the Lucario couldn't see, but then Shuet nodded and pivoted – and then went for the door and left, like any other seeing Pokemon could. He even closed the door softly behind him rather than slamming it, something the Furret approved of.

"How does he do that?" she asked after a pause, when Polen returned to the desk and stood besides it instead, having noting she had taken a portion of it for herself.

He gave her a look, pale blue eyes glimmering with amusement. "Do what?"

"Um. See? I guess?"

Polen did that strange laughing noise where he exhaled through his nose and chuckled at the same time – an exasperated sound, perhaps, an amused and annoyed one. "Auras. You know that."

"Well, yes, but most don't have that sort of mastery over it."

"When you lose one of the senses, I guess you manage. I don't know and I frankly don't give a fuck, so long as the job gets done." He suddenly looked exhausted and he sighed, dragging himself to the chair he loathed so and collapsing into it. He then covered his icy-pale eyes with a lean forearm and sighed once more, a shuddery sound. "Arceus, I'm so tired."

Oriole opened her mouth to ask why and thought better of it, shutting it. It had only been a few days since he was a simple swordsman in the Branch of Keldeo; now, he'd been thrust headfirst into a role that was too big for him to fill with only one supporter – her – and having to sort everything out quickly and efficiently. Needless to say, he hadn't been sleeping much, and there wasn't a discernible time in the future where'd he be able to.

"You need anything?" she asked hesitantly.

"Death can't come too quickly," he muttered under his breath, and then sat up and looked over at her. "I take that back, not what I meant. Just…" The bags under his eyes were heavy and black, and he rubbed his forehead as he said, "Juice. And something with sugar. I need energy right now."

She didn't say anything, instead sliding off the wood of his desk and padding to the door, tail flicking behind her. Her hand was on the knob when he said, "Thank you for everything, Oriole."

"I – " She stopped the words before they came out; sarcasm and snark wasn't what he needed right now. "Of course, Polen," she said instead, and then she opened and shut the door behind her before setting off for the first floor.

* * *

It was strange to think that someone like him could ever hate snow, despite his affinity for cold weather and all it encompassed. But right now, he would be happy to take a knife and stick it into the chest of whatever god was making it rain fluffy flakes of white ice. He did _not_ want snow right now, he did _not_ want cold, or ice, or wind, or blizzard warnings up ahead, he was _sick of the cold_, he did _not_ want to be here. Fuck Rhy and Nero and their stupid plans, like seriously, just. Fuck them.

But in any case, as he and Rein had told Rhy, they had had to take a pit stop of sorts at the small town that was sort of out of the way but the closest to their destination – the sign read _Celestic Town_ and was on one of the well-worn routes to the north, but he and Rein had had to backtrack some in order to get there and then, well, it'd been a little irritating, to say the least.

And while he loved the cold most of the time, he'd run his fingertips over his gray skin (minding the claws, of course) and quivered with something akin to a tremble before he slipped his new coat on, back in the little town. He really did _not_ want to go any further north than he had to; there was always a chance he'd encounter his, uh, _friends_ from the past or something, and that would be tricky to say the least. Plus he hadn't been in the cold his species were well attuned to in _years_. His blood wasn't as thick anymore, he supposed, and he stilled the chattering off his teeth with a determined clench of his jaw.

And as if things could get any worse, which they could, he could tell you firsthand, this – path they were taking. Bad memories to be had for all, uncork the beer bottles and revel in the depressing matter that was Nightingale's mind, _god he hated this._

Yeah, he _really_ wasn't looking to drudging on through snow and wind and ice and jarring cold, nope.

Rein, bless her, actually kept quiet about his hesitance, which was nice, considering how jumpy and unusually silent he was being. She even slowed her considerably speedy pace for him once they saw the first patches of white on the ground, which he was grateful for, because he legitimately recognized some of the trees around here as some he had passed back in his sl – working –_ slave_ days. It was disconcerting and he had to quell the urge to throw up his guts, because that would be totally uncool as well as a bother to do. Puking was pretty nasty.

He tugged his jacket tighter around him, shivered violently, and then sped up his pace so he caught up with the Mightyena in front of him. She registered his closer proximity with a nod and a murmured, "I hate snow," and he agreed with a short nod, moving his fingers constantly as his sides. Due to his claws he could not put them in his pockets, as he would tear the coat itself and that would be problematic. While they were useful in battle, they were pretty much pointless in every other aspect, and he wished he had retractable ones like that one Delcatty he'd met a few years back, the lucky bastard.

"How far north are we going?" he asked Rein, grimacing as they hit the area where snow covered the ground as far as the eye could see. At least he'd had the sense to buy boots, with his regular un-waterproof shoes hanging off on his shoulder. He hated wet socks. "All the way to Snowpoint, or to the Lake, or…?"

"Where else would we go besides Snowpoint?" Rein answered with a shrug. Her breath puffed white in the air, and there was a healthy tint to her cheeks. She looked like a blushing puffball, given the fluffy coat she was wearing, and upon reaching this revelation Nightingale had to resist the urge to snicker. He did so, barely, as she continued in a huff, "God fucking dammit, why couldn't he send someone fucking else besides me here? I'm gonna freeze my ass off and it'll be Rhy's fucking fault."

Man, she was pissed, given all the obscenities she was uttering. Nightingale made a mental note to recall that profanity equals higher stress level in his fellow Rider. "Could be worse," he said, and his teeth gave it the slightest echo of clattering. He frowned and said, stilling them, "Least you're not taking a jog up the memory lane."

She was silent at that, and he pointedly looked forward when she cast him a concerned glance, her eyebrows knitting together and her teeth nursing her lower lip. He could see why Luco was bent on her; she was pretty adorable with that face and her hourglass figure. Her personality was the selling point, Nightingale was sure, but given how shallow the Pachirisu could be when it came to women he'd probably never know if that were actually true or not.

"Is it bad?"

"Is what bad? Because I'd say all of this," here he gestured with his hand, sweeping his arm in an arc that indicated the entire area, "is pretty terrible."

"Not that, stop be purposefully obtuse, you annoying shit," but her scarlet eyes were glimmering with amusement so he knew she was kidding. "I meant what you said earlier. Memories."

"Oh." He looked down at the boots he was wearing, monstrosities that were brilliant white and, so far, doing their job. "Well. I mean, what do you think?"

"Life isn't always too pretty," she agreed, and then her hand settled on his shoulder and he looked up at her fingers, and then her face in surprise. Rein, as far as he knew, was one of the toughest people he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting; strange to think she could have a gentler side, much like Vee having a fighter side that most often kicked butt. "Cheer up, though, it could always be worse."

"I know that, but – "

She had a small grin on her face as she interrupted with "We _could_ be in a blizzard."

He shuddered and reflexively hugged himself tightly – just the mere mention of the word was enough to set him on edge. "Don't jinx it, please," he said with a quirk of his lip, and Rein chuckled slightly besides him, her hand slipping back into her coat pocket. Yep, he could definitely see why Luco liked her so much. "I don't think I can deal with howling wind and snow right now."

"Conditions up here are always blizzards, though, right?" Her eyes are centered on the horizon, but now he noticed the darker clouds that were further up. They were walking straight to them, and he growled low in his throat as she muttered glumly, "Fucking great. Should've bought goggles or some shit."

"Could be worse," he countered, and she pouted at him, legitimately pouted like she was young enough to still do that. It was strange, he'd never actually hung out with Rein that much, but she was a pretty cool chick, which was a pleasant surprise. "We're lucky we actually thought to stop and buy coats and boots."

"Yeah, well," and she laughed, a pure, light sound that echoed in the clearing, and he felt smugly satisfied that he'd been the cause of it. Nightingale, one, Luco, zero. Then he laughed himself, wondering why a rivalry with Luco suddenly seemed to be pertinent to the situation - probably because the Pachirisu was an annoying asshole that somehow had made it into his good graces. "Not all of us are idiots."

"It was my idea," he snipped back, and she smiled back when she saw his grin. After a moment, though, her smile faded and so did his, and he asked her, concerned, "Something wrong?"

"Just, I don't know. I've never really talked to you like this, I guess." Her scarlet eyes were gleaming with something unreadable as she looked down at him, her being three inches over his 5'3''. "I've always been sort of… biased. Thought you were an asshole and all that."

"I am an asshole most of the time," he agreed, not even joking around. Rein sensed this and her frown deepened. He looked down at his feet again, appearing and disappearing in the snow that was getting continuously deeper (maybe they should have invested in snow shoes). "But Luco just wants to keep you to himself, you know? Not to branch out and meet other guys. Which was why he was upset about the pairings."

"One, ew, I am not his, that's just gross." Rein rolled her eyes, but then she looked confused. "What do you mean? Luco didn't seem upset about that. I was surprised, actually."

"You weren't there when he threatened bodily harm if I so much as let you get a paper cut," Nightingale responded, then snorted and shook his head. "Nah, Rein, Luco was pretty pissed about this whole thing. But anyway, yeah. He does this subtle manipulating thing where you subconsciously believe something and, like, don't know it or some shit." He added, a little unnecessarily, "He's a pro at it."

"Wait, so you mean he was _manipulating_ my views of you?" Oh, she sounded absolutely _pissed_. Nightingale gave himself a pat on the back for a job well done getting the news to her; he was looking forward to the day Rein kicked Luco's ass. She looked surprised when he cast a glance up at her. "Whoa. He's… surprisingly devious. Bet he's fucking pleased with himself about it, too."

"He acts like an idiot but he really isn't, if it's any help," Nightingale supplied, and then shrugged and looked forward again. Then he blinked, squinted; either he was just imagining a figure there or someone was coming towards them in the snow. "He's a good guy but things get away from him sometimes." But by 'sometimes' he of course meant _never_; the Pachirisu wasn't the Speaker of Celebi for no reason.

He quickly changed the subject by saying, "Is that a person over there?"

"Where?" But he could tell she'd already seen it, and her scarlet eyes narrowed in an attempt to bring it into focus. There was definitely a figure approaching them, light-colored against a white foreground. She pursed her lips and continued to stare, muttering, "What the hell is he doing?"

"Who knows? Maybe he's friendly and'll talk to us," Nightingale said with a shrug, then raised a hand and waved, shouting, "Yo!"

"You are an idiot," Rein told him, her tone somehow flat yet amused, but she didn't do anything to stop him so he figured it was okay, even as the figure raised a hand in salute as well. They continued walking towards each other, the other Pokemon's features coming into focus as it – he neared. Blond hair dusted his forehead and neck in a stylish 'do, and he smiled slightly when he neared, the skin at the corner of his green eyes crinkling slightly. He was tall and slender like a willow tree, looking as if he would sway in the wind.

"Hello," he said, his voice smooth and flowing like a river, a pleasantly low tenor. He was wearing the most unusual clothing Nightingale had ever seen; rather than be practical like the Weavile was, with form-fitting black clothes and a flexible jacket that could move with his fighting skills, the Pokemon across from them wore an absurdly decorated jacket, blue and white, with two slim tails flowing out behind him. Currently it was zipped up (the zippers were made of _silver_. Nightingale gawped inwardly) but the hood was not tucked over his head as of yet. The lucky bastard had a _hat._

"Hi," Rein said, her voice just as smooth and her face expressionless. Nightingale had adopted such a look as his poker face years ago, and it came as naturally as breathing. "You don't seem dressed for the elements."

A faint smile again, glassy green eyes glittering with amusement, and the man's shoulders rose in the most elegant shrug the Weavile had ever witnessed. "Nor do you."

"Touché," Nightingale agreed with a grin of his own. He stuck out his hand. "Nightingale, watch for the claws," he warned when the other reached out his own hand. His hands were clad in the most curious gloves, a smooth black fabric that was silky to the touch and covered in strange red glyphs on the backs.

"Zetsurin Hogaraka, though most choose to call me Jin," the stranger responded, and then offered his hand to Rein.

"Rein," she said, shaking it once before releasing it. "And not to be rude, but you really don't have the right equipment for the blizzards, Jin."

She nodded to his blue boots, which, upon further inspection by Nightingale, were steel-toed. That would be most impractical in the snow, he knew, and as he watched Jin laughed quietly and his hand rose to finger the black collar peeking from under his strange jacket.

"True, and while I would gladly find more suitable articles, I am afraid I find myself without direction." He shook his head, slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat (lined with _silver_), smiled faintly again. "I don't suppose you know the way to the nearest town?"

"You're lost?" Nightingale cracked a grin and couldn't help laughing a little bit. Rein sent him a sharp look, but he ignored her and told the stranger, "I'm sorry, it's just, you're eloquent and obviously very intelligent, and yet you're lost!" He paused abruptly and said earnestly, "I really don't mean to offend."

"It's fine. No one can be perfect in all areas, unfortunately," Jin agreed, and for the first time Nightingale noticed a convulsive shiver run through his body. It was cleverly hidden as he shifted, but the guy was wearing what looked to be black dress pants; he was most likely freezing in that outfit. "But I will take your response as a yes."

"You wanna tag along?" Rein said, raising an eyebrow, and when Jin nodded she sighed and said, "Well, I hope you can walk fast, then, because we don't have extra food on us and we only have enough to last us the day."

"You plan on reaching the nearest town within a day." Not phrased a question, yet obviously one, given the incredulous on the handsome Pokemon's face.

"Of course," Nightingale asserted, watching the stranger with an amused eye as the other shifted again. "We travel quickly. Think you can keep up?"

The Pokemon sighed, dusted blond hair from his fair face, and straightened his posture, towering over Rein by a good five inches or so, and nodded. "Lead the way," he said.

Rein and Nightingale exchanged glances out of the corners of their eyes, then looked over and nodded. Without another word the trio began to walk again, heading north, where both a blizzard and the nearest town awaited them.

* * *

**Okay, so, if I don't get any more OCs from outside sources I will be tentatively accepting another OC from those who'd like to submit two. Or, for those who don't read big chunks of text:**

**_You can send it another OC! Two is the limit!_**

**Onto credits, hopefully I haven't forgotten anyone (sorry Pepper, Silver, no screen time this chappie!):**

Blade** belongs to - aw, I don't remember anyone's fucking usernames, give me a sec - **Flash3**.**

Nina** the crazy Ninetales**** is from **KCNederland**. (I took some liberties with her personality; hope you don't mind.)**

Jeckyel** is from my invaluable supporter **pokefan113**, though I had to coax him into submitting. Thanks for putting up with my occasional... huh, I don't even know what to call them. Thanks, though, man, your hilarious wit always brightens my day.**

Jayden **is the second OC from my buddy **xXViridianPhoenixXx**. I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT aGfG! **

Yue **hails from the enchanted land of** xiLovePandas.

Hikaru **the ninja who does everything like a boss is from** Nightfall00.

Zila **who didn't get a lot of characterization this chapter, apologies friend, came from** TheGlaceonFanatic. **Please consider reading their OC story, which has some elements of my own it in! :)**

Rhy **is from** stelladog009**. She's a friend in real life and I may or may not have messed up her username on purpose.**

**The mysterious ghost girl belongs to someone who is an invaluable supporter and is so nice and cute and she's so kind that I could cry. Don't spoil it for the others, now; you know who you are! ;)**

Nero **belongs to** BladeOfTheEclipse**, and his personality is a little off in this chapter but it's, like, a headcanon of mine, I suppose? I don't really know, but I had fun with it and I hope you did too. And by the way, I won't pair him with Vee unless you're okay with it! So give me a review or PM or something.**

Vee** is mine. She's my baby. She's so precious.**

Xander **belongs to** AtmosBreak. **He is the best joker. He is the best joker, and I just said that twice because _he reminds me of Sokka like seriously_, that's who I affiliated him with in this chapter.**

Luco** is from** AshKetchumDarkSide. **He didn't get a lot of attention this chapter, sorry!**

Polen **is mine. Poor guy, he's run himself so ragged he can't even dial up the snark.**

Oriole **is from** SnowKiter**, and I'm sorry to admit that I have way more fun writing her than I should. Except she acts much stupider than she actually is in this chappie - sorry about that.**

Shuet **is from** LiteShadoeXIII**, and this guy is possibly the most fun I've had. Snark and that sort of thing are, like, ambrosia and nectar for me as a writer. I just. Had. So much fun. I can't even explain it. I just did.**

Rein **is from** Silverdragon98**.** **Badass swearing chick equals happy author.**

Nightingale **is from** SparkLuxLucios**.** **Badass not-swearing-as-often guy equals happy author.**

Zetsurin** or **Jin** is the second OC from **BladeOfTheEclipse**, and he will get more characterization next chapter. Stay tuned!**

* * *

_**OCs will be accepted for the entirety of this story. See the form on my profile and send by PM only.**_


	10. 8 - Inquiries

**Chapter 8, or Inquiries.**

**This chapter has 13,168 words. Maybe I shouldn't have taken all of these characters, ha ha. At least I know now this is going to be a very long-term project.**

**So yeah. Next chapter of aQoF. I hope you enjoy, and please review or PM with any questions, complaints, or general comments. I probably messed up some stuff in here, too, so if you'll catch those typos for me I would be forever grateful.**

**I don't own Pokemon.**

* * *

_**OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. Please review the form on my profile and send them in by PM only. You can send two OCs!**_

* * *

_You don't have to be a good person to be a hero._

Those words were pretty deep, Xander thought. Knew. Thought. No, he knew they were pretty deep, because they _were_ deep. And, much to the Flying-type's chagrin: considering that phrase came from Nero, it was apparent they held a hidden meaning, besides the blatantly obvious one.

Still, the Gallade hadn't really answered Xander's question, _am I doing the right thing?_ It was almost as if his fellow Rider was saying he would have to find the answer himself. Although… why Nero couldn't just say straight-out that the Misdreavus who led them was bad, and what they were doing wasn't quite right, didn't sit with Xander too well. Still, the Swellow turned the information he knew over and over in his head, sitting against the worn bark of the tree, wings tucked carefully behind him, rocking back and forth, elbows resting loosely on his knees as he chewed his lower lip in thought.

He was on the outskirts of Hearthome City – right outside the walls, in fact, some distance away from the west gates – and was currently located in a tree, not very high up but enough to make him feel more at ease. Birds belonged in the air, after all, he mused, then shook his head and readjusted so he could be more comfortable. Then he squawked loudly when he lost his balance, though he managed to duck and roll upon contact with the ground. Instead of standing up, though, he simply lay there, staring at the leaves above him.

He remained in the position for a few seconds, mortified at the noise he had previously released, but when he sat up and crawled his way back over to lean against the same tree's trunk, dusting himself off on the soft grass, he couldn't help but grin widely, chuckling some. That had actually been pretty hilarious (and he should've seen it coming).

But anyway… heroes. Good guys. Or in this case, not necessarily good guys. Man, sometimes he hated Nero for making things so confusing. _You don't have to be a good person to be a hero?_ Of course you do! Only the good guys were heroes, right? Duh. That was obvious. That was how it was in most books, that was how it _always_ was actually: the protagonist always prevailed because he was good, he chose to do good things, he did what was right and plowed forward because of his bravery and – and – his – goodness. His righteousness! His desire to help others and his belief and his hope! Or her. The protagonist could be a her, too – Xander kicked himself for being unwittingly sexist.

But in any case, Rhy was not really… good, in that sense, the Swellow supposed. Sure, the ghost'd been alive for, how long, two centuries or something? That didn't make it okay to be, like, "oh, sorry, can't help you, not my problem". He was supposed to help anybody, any_thing_, in any way he could. That's what good leaders did! That's how they gained followers and, most importantly, kept those followers.

If he wasn't good, then why was Nero, a perfect asshole who actually had good ethics and morals, following a dark and dreary monster? And why was Vee, the most friendly and optimistic person ever, doing so as well? They were some of the most loyal people he'd ever met, most possibly the pair most devoted to the cause and the organization of the Flame Riders itself. They had no reason to follow Rhy's plans and decisions, and yet, they did, gladly. They would even lay their lives down for him if they had to.

_Why?_ What about him made Rhy so trustworthy, even when he had so many actions and choices that pointed otherwise – ?

He yelped in surprise when he bit through his lower lip with a burst of pain. So deep in concentration was he that he had failed to notice how hard he'd been grinding his teeth, and he released his hold on his now-sore lip while removing his glove and carefully pressing his fingertip against the wound. When he brought it out so he could see, his skin showed a bright blotch of red. Nothing he could do about a split lip, for now, but he growled under his breath as he wiped his finger on his jeans and slipped his glove over his hand again.

"I heard that," a familiar voice called, and Xander sighed audibly when Luco trotted into view from behind a tree, grinning like a shark. His white jeans were stained with dirt and grass, but he didn't seem to mind all too much despite his generally vain attitude. The Swellow supposed it had something to do with Rein not being around. "What d'ya do now?"

"Bit my lip," Xander grumbled, and Luco let out a light laugh. Something in his voice, though, got the Swellow's attention, and he gave his fellow Rider a careful looking-over, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Indeed, the Pachirisu had a little less bounce in his step, and his smile looked slightly forced despite his normally cheery demeanor. "Something wrong?" the Swellow asked him, cocking his head when Luco's lips twitched into a frown.

"Nothing important," he replied, but it was obvious he was lying through his teeth, given how he actually scowled a bit.

"And you expect me to believe that?" Xander got to his feet, wiped his hands over his pants and then his shoulders for good measure. He shook out his wings as well, cartilage bending, and fluttered his feathers a bit. Arceus, he wanted to be flying right about now…

Luco threw up his hands and said in a light, teasing tone, "Jeez, man, I know I'm _really_ bad at lying, but there's no need to rub it in." He ran his fingers through his white hair with the blue stripes, his lips set in a thin line, before realizing what he was doing and jabbing them into his pockets. "It's just." He sighed. "You know."

"Rein?" Xander guessed, and at the glum look that flitted across Luco's face, like a passing cloud, he decided he was right. "Why? You'll see her pretty soon."

"In like a month, if that," Luco shot back, and then he moaned out loud. Xander almost flinched at the sound, not because it was miserable but because it was… actually kind of pathetic that the guy was so worked up over a single girl. "And _Nightingale_'s with her. I can't stand it, Xander."

"What's wrong with Nightingale?" the Swellow asked, one eyebrow quirked. As far as he knew the Weavile was strictly business – so much so that if life were a protest march he'd be holding a sign saying "I'm too busy protesting do give a shit about anything" or some sort of thing like that. His metaphors kind of sucked. "I doubt he'd make a move on her."

Luco sent him the pitying look he'd ever witnessed, and it raised Xander's hackles slightly. Then the Electric-type said in a miserable yet irritatingly condescending voice, "You really don't understand anything, do you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Perhaps not the best of responses he could've chosen, but it would have to do.

"That was the point of the comment, Xander." _Ouch._ "But anyway, Rhy's gone and ruined the dynamic I'd set up." Cue dramatic sigh, and then abruptly Luco fell lifelessly to the ground, landing splayed all over the place. There was no indication that it had hurt, though Xander knew it had to, considering how he had just fallen in a similar manner. "And Nightingale's not stupid, he's noticed."

"Noticed what, exactly?" The Swellow knew he'd regret asking, given how pissed Luco looked right now, but his curiosity got the better of him and the words escaped without a second thought. As he'd predicted, the Pachirisu gave him another withering look, though this time Xander didn't even bother looking, instead bending down and plucking a blade of grass for no reason except to briefly entertain himself.

"Would it be surprising if I told you I wasn't actually dumb?" Luco snapped, and Xander rolled his eyes, paying only half-attention as the Pachirisu swept on, "Nightingale's gonna spill everything to Rein about how carefully I've been manipulating her – and others, too. She'll be angry as hell and probably kick my ass the next time she sees me."

"Don't see why you wouldn't deserve it," the Swellow responded absently, dropping the blade of grass and lacing his fingers together. He straightened his arms, palms facing outward, fingers cracking as he added, "From what I can understand, you were basically marking her as your territory in a sneaky way, which always pisses people off once they find out."

"I don't need _you_ to tell me that," he snarled, and then crossed his arms and seemed to – curl into himself, rocking slightly even as he lay in a ball on his side.

Xander frowned, looking over at the Pachirisu in slight concern. He was an easygoing Pokemon by nature – the both of them were, in fact – but now his feathers were getting a little ruffled, no pun intended. He didn't know quite what to say that would ensure the argument would not escalate into something that might be potentially be catastrophic in nature. Instead, he said nothing and simply shrugged, looking away from his friend.

"Sorry," Luco said after a moment, running both hands through his short hair. "I'm not really. Um. Sorry."

"It's fine." It wasn't any of his business anyway, and Xander had no intention of sticking his metaphorical beak into a place where it didn't belong. "Don't worry."

"You're a good friend, Xander."

Xander shrugged again with a small smile on his face, settling himself down at the base of the tree where he'd fallen. Luco, after a moment's hesitation, got up and joined him, and together they sat in silence, listening to the chatter of voices and the wind brush the leaves above them.

"That reminds me," Luco said after a few minutes' silence. "There was huge gaggle of Pokemon in Arceus garb. I saw them when I was going around town."

"Order of Arceus?" Luco nodded. "That could be a problem," Xander murmured, though he had no idea what they would want to do with Hearthome. But at least, he might be able to use this to his advantage, as he stood up and shook out his wings. "You think I should take a look?"

"Can't hurt," Luco replied, raising his shoulders in a shrug. Then he looked up at Xander and said in a more serious tone, "They looked dangerous, though; some had swords and axes and the like. Be careful."

It was rare for the Pachirisu to say anything in that manner – seriously, that is – so Xander took his words to heart and nodded. "Will do."

And with that, he took a running start and flung himself into the air once he'd reached a big even space between the trees, wings flapping powerfully to pull himself upwards. He could feel Luco's eyes upon him as he banked to the left and soared over the city, before he saw exactly what Luco had described: a group of Pokemon with the clothes from the Order of Arceus.

And then he saw what they were doing, and he screeched in alarm, an instinctive sound. Townsfolk looked up, other Flying-types looked round, and soon the whole city was in pandemonium. Xander couldn't bring himself to go any closer, but he couldn't move from his spot, his wings beating up and down to keep him bobbing in place.

Why was the Order of Arceus burning down Hearthome's eastern gates?

* * *

Jin was quite the character, though Rein was pretty sure he was just a little off in the head. For one, he pretended he wasn't cold when it was so very obvious he was freezing; for another, he was brilliant, in the sense that his intelligence was so tremendous she felt – no, she _knew_ she was completely outclassed.

And yet another point: he was ridiculously powerful. They were trudging through a blizzard and he had erected some sort of Light Screen that shielded them from the wind and snow. No normal psychic could do that without breaking a sweat and remaining able to maintain a witty conversation with one of the sharpest people she knew, metaphorically and otherwise (which brought up a good point: why wasn't Jin just teleporting to his location? That would be a lot easier for him, and she doubted he didn't knew how to).

In any case, she was walking ahead of Nightingale and the Alakazam, thinking and calculating whether they would get to Snowpoint in time. She was pretty certain they would make it with at least two hours to spare, thanks to Jin's ingenious use of his powers, and that they were very close now. Thus, it took her a little bit to realize they were trying to get her attention, to which she brushed her hair behind her ears and looked around, slowing her pace. "Sorry," she said apologetically, followed by "What?"

"And so she graces us with her awareness!" Nightingale said dryly, and when she gave him the finger, Jin winced while the Weavile smirked. Her half-hearted snarl in response simply made his teasing smile widen.

"We were simply curious enough as to inquire your thoughts," the Alakazam clarified, giving the Weavile besides him an unreadable look, eyes flashing once before returning to meet her own. "You seem to be incredibly focused on something."

She stared back for a moment, running his word choice through her head, before she waved a hand and shook her head. "It's nothing, really. Just wondering if we'll make it to Snowpoint on time – which we will," she added at the stricken looks on both of her companions' faces. "And this whole shield thing you got going? It's helping a ton."

If he was flattered, it doesn't show on his face, though the shield in question pulsated quietly outside of them, a ring of gold traveling from the front to back. "Your praise is too much," he said instead, evenly, and then he told her, "It is really the least I can do for you – I enjoy finding traveling companions such as yourselves."

Rein supposed she could take that as an insult or a compliment, depending on how to chose to approach the comment itself. She decided to ignore it entirely and instead asked bluntly, "So, what do you do for a living, Jin?"

Nightingale shifted slightly, eyes alighting on hers for just a moment – a flicker of understanding passed between the two, so swift she was sure the Alakazam missed it, though she could be wrong – before they flicked over to Jin. The Psychic-type didn't say anything right away, evidently pondering his answers before saying anything, but when he spoke, it took both of them by surprise.

"I used to be a freelance scientist," he told them, and then Rein felt her cold blood chil with shock when he admitted quietly, "I was the one who developed the original formula for cloning and creating life in a test tube, if you will. My research has been used by the Order of Arceus for over ten years."

"Um" was Nightingale's immediate reaction, and the Mightyena could barely force her mind to function before she could convey information coherently.

"So, uh, Jin." Rein cleared her throat at his questioning look. "How old are you right now?" She knew it was a prying question, but he didn't look old, quite the attractive young man in fact. His intelligence must be even more pronounced than she had originally thought.

"I am eighteen."

"… And when did you make these notes?"

Jin had the audacity to shrug, as at the same time he told them, "I perfected them – they had been my father's originally – when I was around, say, a year or two of age."

There was a long and pointed silence. Nightingale shattered it by yelping, "You wrote _algorithms_ when you were only a year old? Is that even _possible_?" At Jin's wordless nod the Weavile shook his head violently, scarlet eyes as wide as dinner plates. "I'm sorry, I've heard of prodigies, but that – that's beyond even me."

"As it is for most," the Alakazam responded tonelessly, and his green eyes seemed somewhat sightless, almost glassy orbs, as they met Rein's. Quite suddenly she felt she could peer into his soul using his eyes as her medium, almost knowing that somehow, somewhere, this young man had aged in circumstances where he was forced to grow up far to quickly and give up all too much – and she knew that for all of his genius, his life had not been an easy one.

"What's it like, being so smart?" she asked quietly, and his expression, which had been completely neutral and unreadable, instantly twisted into a deep scowl. His answer was similarly pronounced.

"No one trusts you or talks to you, for fear of appearing stupid or simply because they find it is not their place." Nightingale opened his mouth to interject, no doubt something ridiculous, and as if sensing this Jin swept on. "Very few treat me as an ordinary person, and even less find themselves able to talk with me easily. And the number of people who know what I've done and researched – I can count on the fingers of one hand – "

"Why did you tell us?"

For once, the Weavile had asked an intelligent question, and once again he and Rein exchanged a lightning-quick glance before focusing their full attention on the Psychic-type in front of them. Jin looked incredibly unsure, slightly pensive, even, though at their unwavering gazes he sighed and muttered, looking down, "I'm not sure. I just felt that I could trust you to keep a secret."

_If only he knew half of it_, Rein thought as she and Nightingale locked eyes once again, this time for a more noticeable amount of time, _being a Flame Rider in itself is a secret not easily shared_. Jin did not remark upon it, however, and then Rein said, with a tone of seriousness that was not heard often, "We'll take this information to the grave."

The grateful look was all she needed to see to know she'd done the right thing, and then Nightingale did what he did best, which was lighten the atmosphere: "So, can you fight?"

"If I could not fight, I would be locked in a cell and be enslaved for my intelligence." Rein winced, though Jin looked unruffled by the inquiry and continued, nonplussed, "Can you?"

The response was so rapid-fire even the Weavile looked a little winded, a rare occurrence, but then a cruel smirk curled the Dark-type's lip and Rein turned away, sensing verbal bloodshed in the near future. Fortunately, they were practically at the town's doorstep – in fact, they were plodding past the entrance to Lake Acuity, where Rein knew the mysterious body of water would remain liquid rather than being covered by a sheet of ice, shielded from the blizzard by high, dominating pines.

She got both of the males' attention by slapping the side of Nightingale's head and snapping her fingers in front of the Alakazam's face. "We're here," she said with exaggerated patience, and Jin had the decency to look embarrassed while Nightingale merely shrugged and walked past the sign that proudly declared 'Snowpoint City'. Jin and Rein followed, only stopping once they had reached shelter next to a building's wall.

"It was very nice to meet you both," the Alakazam said after a moment, and then, without preamble, he gave a short bow and walked away, taking his shield with him. The full force of the blizzard hit the two of them, and they quickly made a decision and made their way blindly to where Rein knew a PokeCenter was, with her making her path with sheer willpower alone.

"Didn't even say goodbye properly," she grumbled as they felt their way to where the door was. They opened automatically, and while Rein entered and looked back expectantly the Weavile did not follow.

"I'm going to tail him," Nightingale told her in explanation, already backing out into the cold winds. She nodded to acknowledge she had heard, and then the doors closed and she was alone in the place, with other numerous Pokemon scattered around and a Chansey scribbling busily at the front desk. She secluded herself by claiming a corner of one of the couches, making sure to save a spot for Nightingale by throwing her pack on the other end.

Then she settled in for an extensive wait, picking up a random magazine from the coffee table in front of her, for she knew in this weather, and due to Nightingale's traumatic past, the Weavile would be taking a long time in returning.

* * *

They had been the most remarkable duo he'd met in a while, Jin had to admit. It was getting increasingly rare for him to run into indifferent Pokemon such as them – not to say they were unkind and ignored him, just that they did not seem to care which side he was on. Nowadays, all that seemed to be spoken about was the upcoming war, led by the most fervent Servants of the Order of Arceus and Kyurem, while the other Orders' followers shied away and hid in their basements.

He could not blame them. The heretics and insane actions of both of the Orders were some things he was keen on avoiding himself.

In the meantime, he was making his way to the Temple located in Snowpoint, not for any particular reason but merely because he wanted a point of seclusion, somewhere he could think. If it weren't for the damned cold – here he shivered, suddenly reminded of its icy weight on his clothes and body – he would most likely have come here earlier. At least now, once he had visited, he would be able to teleport here without a problem.

The large, foreboding building loomed into view quite suddenly, the blizzard restricted his vision to a number of feet, and with one last shiver he entered its gray arch. He maintained his shield though weakened its power considerably as he padded in further, noticing the freezing, desolate place was deserted save for an individual standing very still near the center of the building. Despite his misgivings, he walked closer; perhaps they would be able to explain the inner-workings of the once-majestic building he was in.

The Pokemon turned as he came closer, and quite suddenly the blood chilled to an even lower temperature in his veins. It was a Gardevoir, and its striking similarity to his beloved Teacher caused his limbs to freeze in place.

"Can I help you?" It – his, that voice was male, his voice did not match, not quite, but still, Jin was unable to get his mouth to form the words, his tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. The Gardevoir frowned in concern and swept closer, somehow walking elegantly despite the ragged jeans he wore. The Alakazam vaguely wondered why the other Psychic-type did not seem cold as he pressed, "Are you all right?"

It took him almost five tries, but then Jin got out, in a near whisper, "You look exactly like someone I know." The Gardevoir raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his wrinkled, periwinkle shirt, the torn jeans, and the worn boots, but the Alakazam insisted, "Your face looks exactly like of my teacher's."

"I apologize for that, however, I am not this teacher of yours." He looked earnestly sincere, his green eyes accenting his styled green hair perfectly, and once again Jin was violently reminded of his mentor. "My name is Mitch." He held out a hand, and the Alakazam remarked that he was rather trusting for a rather delicate-looking individual. "And you are?"

"Jin," he said, reaching out to shake the other's hand. At the contact he felt not the smoothness he was anticipating – rather, Mitch's hand was rough and sturdy, despite its thin and lithe appearance. It seemed the Gardevoir worked hard at whatever he was doing, and Jin released his hand with a newfound respect for the individual in front of him.

Mitch offered him a smile, showing off perfect, white teeth, so familiar to Jin, before turning his back to him again and gesturing widely to the temple. "A wonderful place, is it not? I come here often. It's always rather quiet, and I enjoy the solitude."

The Gardevoir continued to chatter on, and Jin felt faint, unable to distinguish the words. Even the stranger's melodious voice rang familiar in his ears, and he wondered if this particular Pokemon was perhaps, just _perhaps_, related to the one he had always held most dear.

* * *

"Here we are!"

Pepper blinked at Vee's excitement, as the blonde swept her arm widely to gesture to the small courtyard that was, currently, empty of all people save themselves. It reminded her of the open plains at home, where she and Silver and Spark would – she shook her head violently to rid herself of thoughts of her late friend. In any case, Silver was similarly unimpressed with older girl's excitement, though he had far more tact and hid it cleverly with a shift of his body as the Shedinja continued, "We'll be practicing stealth, because we have no time to waste!"

There was a bout of silence, one that stretched out for nearly a minute, and then Pepper ventured, "How are we going to practice that?" Because in all honesty, how could one even begin to do that? Would it not be easier to be put into a dangerous situation and then see how it's done, rather than just being, well, _taught_ how to be stealthy?

At Vee's huge smile, both Pepper and Silver stepped slightly closer together, for moral support more than anything, and then the girl said, "We'll start simple. Find a hiding spot here, and I'll come look for you." When neither of the two moved, Vee's grin faded slightly and she told them in a more curt tone, "Make it snappy!"

"What?"

The Shedinja did not respond – she had closed her eyes and was beginning to count slowly, rhythmically, and both Pepper and Silver scrambled to find cover of anything sort in the sparse area. There was a single tree, which the Minccino scaled with the ease of long practice; meanwhile, she tucked herself in a corner made by two walls, slowed her breathing until her chest barely rose and fell, and then waited with her eyelids slid shut as Vee called out, "Ten! Here I come!"

She was found almost immediately, when Vee's soft chuckle sounded above her. "Good try, but I can see you from any angle here," the girl told her, gently, and Pepper sighed and got to her feet, finding a comfortable place on the grass as Vee floated to the tree and looked up into its branches, calling out Silver's name with a trace of amusement in her light voice.

"Not bad for a first attempt," she said approvingly when both Pepper and Silver were seated primly before her. They looked over at each other and Silver rolled his eyes while Pepper's frown became thinner, and Vee laughed and said even more sincerely, "You made use of what you had and did your best. But I'm going to teach you how to use what you have and make yourself invisible."

"In one day?" Silver asked, his tone dubious.

Vee chuckled and shook her head, either at his ignorance or at his tone. "Not one day," she said, and Silver nodded in understanding; but then she told them, her lips curling up into a wicked smile, "In one hour," and his eyes widened into the size of dinner plates. Pepper resisted the very strong urge to giggle, for it had been ages since he had looked so surprised (back when they had left with Spark – _dammit_) as the dual Bug- and Ghost-type told them, "I'm going to demonstrate. Give me five seconds, close your eyes, and then look for me."

"You're a ghost," the Minccino pointed out, and Pepper nodded; he had a point, and he continued with it by telling Vee, "The playing field isn't level."

"I can't go intangible, you know," the older girl huffed, something Pepper had forgotten – and so had Silver, from the way his expression changed from annoyed to stricken – and then she added, "But I'll walk on the ground if it makes you feel better." Her feet then floated down to touch the ground with impossible lightness, and then she repeated, less gently and more sternly, "Close your eyes and count."

Pepper and Silver exchanged glances just once, shifting closer to one another as their eyes closed and they counted, his deeper voice intertwining easily with her higher one, and when they reached five and their eyes opened, their new mentor was nowhere to be seen. The Electivire pushed herself to her feet with a soft sigh and looked down at Silver as he stood up as well, asking him hesitantly, "You take left, I'll take right?"

At his tired nod they split up, prowling around the seemingly empty courtyard for any signs of the girl teaching them how to hide. After five minutes of searching every nook and cranny, with Silver even scaling the tree and taking a look up in its branches, Pepper called over to him, her voice hollow, "I don't think we're going to find her."

"We're going to keep trying" was the Minccino's curt answer, and with a small frown and a larger hesitation Pepper murmured assent and began the search anew, this time going over everything with a careful eye and exploring every place she found even more intensely than before. Silver was employing his ultra-sensitive hearing in order to locate the older girl to, it seemed, no avail; as it was, they scoured the entire area more than once and turned up empty-handed.

But eventually, Pepper ran right into who she was looking for, and Vee kept her from exclaiming her position to Silver with a finger to her lips and a small, secretive smile on her face. Pepper rolled her eyes and stepped away, but admired the older girl's cunning: she had certainly not been there before when Pepper had gone to look, which meant she'd been moving around and had let herself be found. Even more surprising was how Vee had not been detected by the Minccino, considering the high degree of which the boy could hear, and anyone who could sneak by Silver was someone Pepper had respect for.

(Spark had been one of such people, she remembered, and the sweet taste of success on her tongue immediately soured to bitter loss.)

Silver caught on to the ploy with much grumbling and mumbling, for he hated to be outmatched. Pepper quietly interlocked her fingers with his – not as a romantic venture, far from it, but to show him that she was still here – in order to calm him, and it seemed to work well enough for he fell silent. Vee didn't even bat an eye at the setup, though the Electivire was certain she made note of it.

"The trick is to keep moving without being noticed, or at least in a small space like this," she instructed them. A hand rose up and she tapped the skin just to the side of one of her eyes, explaining at the same time, "The eye tracks movement very well, however, so when there's a chance someone is looking at your hiding spot, freeze in place, no matter where you are."

"Even in the middle of the hallway?" Pepper asked, feeling stupid nigh instantaneously when Vee gave her an unreadable look. The Electivire would have faltered were it not for a squeeze of her hand from Silver, and with renewed confidence she continued with, "When do we know that it's useless to hide and we should put as much distance between ourselves and our enemies?"

"We will be assuming you have enough common sense to know the crucial difference," an icily cold voice said from the doorway, and a wide smile split across Vee's face as the three turned to Nero – something the younger girl did not miss.

"Hello," Pepper said quietly, to which Nero gave her a small nod, sweeping closer with elegant and deathly silent steps. He was the epitome of stealth, in his dark color palette and matching cold personality, but somehow he seemed to loosen up somewhat when he went to stand closer to Vee, his stance becoming less hunched and more neutral. Obviously, there was something going on there… Pepper reasoned that she would be able to ask the older girl about it later.

"I was just giving them the basics about stealth," the Shedinja was telling her taller friend, automatically floating up a few inches from the ground to make up for the lost height, with her knees bending slightly as she did so. Nero nodded, his single visible eye flicking to first Pepper, then to Silver, and when he gave a questioning look to Vee the blonde said defensively, "They're both better than you would think."

"Gee, thanks," Silver muttered. Pepper elbowed him hard in the side and sent him a look that he ignored, and she was shaken to see the corner of his lip curl up slightly in a smirk. This was not the same boy she had left the orphanage with, and then she was reminded of the emptiness of a certain spunky, sarcastic friend by their sides and a long sigh escaped her lips.

It must have also shown on her face, as Vee's and even Nero's gaze softened slightly. "Is something the matter?" the Shedinja asked her, brow furrowed with worry, and Pepper gave a soft shake of her head; no, nothing was wrong, or at least the older girl wouldn't understand. She might be able to speak of it later, but not now, not when Spark's death was still so fresh in her mind. Vee accepted Pepper's bluff with a hesitant nod and then looked over at the tall, dark Gallade besides her.

"I keep forgetting how young they are sometimes," Silver whispered next to her, and Pepper glanced over at him, eyebrows lifted in surprise. It wasn't often that the Minccino chose to eavesdrop, but he had repeated what the Shedinja had said to Nero for Pepper's benefit – though why he found it worthy of noting was beyond her. He kept repeating after them as he leaned in closer and said even more quietly, "They remind me of Nightingale in a lot of ways."

Nero's visible eye swiveled to rest sternly on Silver, and the Minccino dutifully fell silent, though he glared right back, scowling deeply. Vee obviously noticed this whole exchange but didn't say a word until the silence stretched into an awkward one, in which Pepper gently nudged Silver in order for him to calm down, and then she said lightly, "Shall we spar? I find it always makes me feel a little better."

"Sure," Pepper said, seeing no reason not to. Fighting would get her mind off things, like Silver's disturbing new persona and Spark's – demise. She shivered at the formality of the word and berated herself for using it with the name of one of her dearest and only friends; then she curled her fingers into fists, her fingernails digging into her palm, all in order to distract herself from processing the thought further by saying hastily, "Um, but we're not going to win, are we?"

"Of course not" was Nero's prompt answer, his voice smooth and distant and barely audible, and Pepper felt a thin smile spread across her lips as Vee frowned and rammed her elbow into his skinny frame, reminded of doing the same with her own friend. He winced and a hand rose to hover over his torso, but he was not too winded to not speak, and he pointed out in a slightly strained voice, "However, that is not to say you should not try, I should think."

"True enough," Silver agreed, and then without warning he dropped Pepper's hand and lunged directly for Vee, lips pulled back in a snarl. Pepper took a few rapid steps forward in an effort to stop him, fingers reaching out to grasp him, but as it turned out there was no point; by the time he had come close enough to be within arm's reach, the two Riders across from her had parted swiftly in opposite directions and come back together behind the Minccino, moving in near sync as they reached out to grab one of his arms as he went past.

"Too slow," Vee said, her voice devoid of its previous warmth and cheerfulness as she released the Minccino. Nero, Pepper noticed, held onto her friend's wrist for slightly longer, and when they did fully let him go Silver jumped back, tail waving wildly, eyes full of a manic fire she'd never seen before. She shivered at the look and Nero glanced back, as if sensing her discomfort, as Vee continued in a flat tone, unperturbed by the Minccino's ferocity, "If you're going to try a surprise attack, don't prepare for it five seconds beforehand."

Silver growled something unintelligible in response, but the two Riders merely arched an eyebrow at almost the same instance, both equally unimpressed. "Patience is a virtue," Nero intoned, as if he'd said it many times before, and then he tensed up slightly for what appeared to be no reason at all. Pepper noted this with detachment as Vee turned to her and grinned widely, her fingers brushing over Nero's elbow as she floated over to her.

"Let's leave the boys to it," she said in explanation, "and you and I can have a go after they're done."

"Fair enough," Pepper agreed, and they settled themselves on the ground, Vee still remaining an inch or less above the grass, and cast their eyes to the small clearing where the Gallade and the Minccino currently stood, glaring at each other.

Nero stood straight, head facing his opponent, his arms crossed but his positioning otherwise relaxed; it was clear he would be able to move or dodge in mere seconds, and it was just as easy to see that Silver sensed this. The Minccino was tensed up, bent down low, eyes trained on Nero's shoulders, and he lunged to the left – but then quickly sidestepped to the right, hands outstretched in some kind of attack. Predictably, the Gallade twisted elegantly and allowed the younger boy's fist to punch empty air, proceeding to grab the offending arm and allow Silver's momentum to toss him to the ground. Pepper winced at the force at which her friend fell, hearing the _clack_ of his teeth as his jaw slammed together.

"Pathetic." Nero's tone was cutting and jarred the fiery light out of Silver's eyes, and then Pepper came forward to help him into a seated position. She felt an icy glance on her back before she looked up to see it, and then Nero said pointedly, "You will perhaps stand a better chance, as you are not a reckless fool as your friend is."

"I resent that," Pepper replied, trying to make her tone as stony as possible, though she faltered when Nero's gaze remained unmoving. Still, with an encouraging cheer from Vee nearby, she hesitantly released Silver and moved so she stood across and some distance away from the older and much taller Pokemon. Silver, for his part, did not complain, instead seating himself next to Vee with only the slightest grimace. There she stood, for a few moments, and then she asked tentatively, "What do I do now?"

"I don't know," Nero responded with a slight lift of his shoulders, and Pepper glared, feeling a burst of angry flames light inside her. She hated it when people chose to be obtuse; they liked to rationalize it by stating that it would help them in the long run, but the Electivire found the whole practice pointless and only there to annoy people.

This train of thought was derailed, however, when Vee called out, "You have lots of options to choose from, since you have both long-distance and short-distance attacks. Try combining them and see what happens!"

Combining them? That was something Pepper had yet to attempt. She glanced nervously at the intimidating figure in front of her; but to her surprise, he actually gave her something akin to an encouraging nod, and with a shaky breath she nodded determinedly back and thought long and hard about what to do.

In a matter of seconds she then jumped forward while loosing a Thunderbolt attack from her fingers; while he deftly dodged this and even blocked stray sparks with his hands, somehow (psychic powers, she mused), she continued forward in a roundhouse kick that clipped his waist. She had a moment of triumph then, just a moment, and then her ankle was being dragged around and she fell flat on her face in the grass, barely catching herself with her hands.

"Good effort," Nero said shortly, stepping back and dusting off his spotless clothes as Pepper pushed herself to a seated position, flipping herself around so she was facing the Gallade. He said nothing else, instead turning and striding away back indoors, and Vee called a cheerful "See you later!" behind him as he went that he acknowledged with a slight backwards glance. When Pepper wriggled an eyebrow at Vee, the blonde smiled and brought a finger to her lips: _don't tell._

The Electivire shrugged and walked over to Silver, helping the older albeit shorter boy to his feet once more, and his fingers clung to hers even after he was standing. Pepper then asked Vee, "Are we done for the day?"

The blonde looked amused as Silver muttered something under his breath, leaning heavily on Pepper. It wasn't quite discernable, but presumably it was begging her to say _yes_, the day is over, "Can we just be done?" and yep, Pepper was right. She didn't feel good about it, though.

In any case it was apparent Vee was about to say no but then a Pokemon stumbled out the doors, looking rather rattled, whose name Pepper gathered was James from the way the Shedinja said cheerily, "James! What brings you here?"

"Pardon the intrusion," the young man said apologetically to both Pepper and Silver, sketching a quick bow as he did so; then his attention focused entirely on the blonde across him. "Nero has requested your presence, as several units are ready to move out and require direction."

"Is that so?"

"So are we done?" Pepper pressed, and the Shedinja looked over at them as James beat a hasty retreat.

"Yeah, I guess. We'll continue stealth later," the blonde responded, flapping a hand that was obviously meant to be some sort of dismissal, her smile becoming a wry one. "Be good and don't get into trouble, now!"

Pepper eyed the girl dubiously for a few seconds, but then she shrugged andturned on her heel, pulling Silver with her towards the same doors Nero had just departed. As she opened them and gently pushed her friend into the cooler hallway of the building, though, she couldn't help but wonder if the older girl had spoken in code, perhaps, or tried to tell something to her in a subtle fashion. _Why are people always so opaque?_

Or maybe she was reading too much into it?

_What am I supposed to do now?_ she thought with a sinking feeling of despair in her stomach, as her arm encircled her friend's waist, bending down to accommodate his height.

* * *

Vee found, much to her initial surprise, that James was quite a good companion. He was clever and witty, in a quiet sort of way; oftentimes he would murmur something under his breath with a small smile, and if she heard him the comment was usually humorous in nature and made her chuckle as well. Thus she was disappointed the Budew didn't stay longer to talk, though she did understand his duty as essentially deputy to the Speaker kept him quite busy.

She made the walk to the conference room that Nero had claimed as home base leisurely, for she was in no rush. War was not something she enjoyed dabbling in, no matter what the result (though especially so if it was bad), and she figured the master strategist wouldn't be hampered without her there. So she was slightly surprised when someone stepped into her way, half-hidden by a sharp shadow made from poor light sources and tall, dark walls.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely without looking up to meet the person's eyes, shifting slightly. She kept the soles of her feet on the ground when she wandered the building, more out of manners than anything – others here gave her funny looks whenever she floated around.

The other Pokemon did not respond, and at this she did raise her eyes – only to be startled by the height of the potential threat in front of her. He was an inch shorter than her, his hair dyed jet-black with violently clashing red streaks, and his black clothes helped him blend in effortlessly in any dark place he so chose.

His eyes were as deep and black as onyx as she asked again, this time more slowly and pointedly, "Can I help you?"

"Maybe."

She furrowed an eyebrow; that wasn't an answer she could work on. She tried again, this time taking a different approach: "Who are you?"

There was a silence where she could have heard a ghost pass through the walls. Then, without warning, the person told her in a low, raspy voice, "Nexus." She nodded and then attempted to slip past; she would ask around to see where this Pokemon was from and what he wanted.

The next thing she knew, he had a fully-prepared Shadow Ball in his hands and he smashed it point-blank at her stomach. It hit her square in the abdomen, and she was launched backwards, landing on the ground coughing and holding the wound. There was no external marks, as was the traits of all ghost-type attacks, but she couldn't move, not when it was super-effective against her. The other Pokemon, once so short, seemed endlessly tall as he loomed over her. But then he was by her ear, and her teeth clattered, her body suddenly cold, as his breath brushed her ear.

"Tell Silver to find me," he said, his words barely audible, and she nodded as best as she could in acknowledgement, feeling her world spin on its axis as she did so. She felt as though she was drowning in a sea of black, unable to tear her eyes from the Pokemon crouching next to her, quiet and elegant.

But then the perfect silence was ruined. "Vee?" someone called, and the person looked up. His black eyes flicked down to meet her green ones for just a moment; then he was gone, and a harried, worried James filled her view. "Are you all right?"

She opened her mouth to speak, only to turn her head sideways and hack up alarming amounts of blood. The Budew's eyes shone with horror, and he raised his head and began barking orders to whoever was near. Footsteps echoed loudly in her ears; the world was fuzzy at the edges, tinged with a red she hadn't seen in many years.

_Concentrate_, she told herself, but her stomach hurt so much and she could barely focus on holding her hands to it through the pain. Still, somehow, she made out the words "Nero" more than once in James' rapid-fire speech, and her hazy brain managed to make the connection and assume he was summoning the Gallade over to her.

The last thing she registered before falling unconscious was being lifted ever so carefully, gently, and a familiar, dark blue eye gazing down at her – except this time, rather than being empty and expressionless, it was filled with something akin to panicked worry.

* * *

"There is so much work to do. I can hardly stand this. Look at this atrocity, my hand's shaking."

"Everyone's hands shake, smartass. You can never keep them completely still."

"Don't be obtuse, you stupid Furret, I'm not in the mood. It's cramped up again, and I still have to finish this report for the Branch of Meloetta. Speaking of which, do we know where the Assassins are?"

"No. I think they understand we're not out to kill them, though, so they will probably return on their own accord."

"I hope you're right. I need their skills right about now."

"What do you mean?"

Pause. "Can you keep a secret?"

"You're asking me?"

"I would never doubt you, my dear Oriole. Seriously, though."

"I'm not your 'dear', asshole. And of course I wouldn't tell unless you wanted me to. What are advisors for?"

"I'm going to die."

"… Excuse me?"

"I just told you. I'm going to die. Soon."

"Uh-huh. Come off it, Polen. How could you know that?"

"I just do, okay? I just know. I don't know how, or why. But I'm going to die soon."

"You're… you're sure?"

"I am."

"…"

"… You don't believe me, do you."

"No, it's just – if you die, then… who will take your place?"

"It's right in front of your face, if you so chose to look."

"Wait, you mean the _Assassins_? You mean to make one of _them_ your successor?"

"Yes."

"I can't even begin to tell you how stupid of an idea that is."

"Yeah." Pause. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"There are so many better choices, I'm not even kidding."

"Like you?"

"Oh _hell_ no. I'm not going through that again."

"Then what should I do?"

"Well, you might not die."

"I'm going to die, Oriole. There's no question about it."

Silence.

"We'll figure something out before then. How long before you…?"

"I don't know. Soon."

"Don't worry. Just… it'll be fine."

"I don't want to die."

"I know." Pause. "I'm sorry."

His voice cracks at the end. "At least someone is."

* * *

Jayden leaned on the counter, minding the blades on his wrists against the worn wood, and repeated, "The OA's going after Hearthome?"

Jeckyel nodded, not looking up from the dish he was scouring clean with a washcloth by the café's sink. "Yep. They're already there, actually, and they'll probably start attacking right away instead of waiting for night, those dumbasses."

Jayden whistled, long and low, and then told him, "We're probably the most unsecretive agents you could ever meet."

Jeckyel grinned at that, looking up. "Considering I just told you top-secret information? Probably."

"All's well that ends well, I guess."

Jeckyel gave him a look that read _sometimes you are such an idiot_ and said, "If only the world worked that way."

Jayden sighed morosely at that. "Touché."

* * *

"You don't even remember your name?"

The Shuppet across from them shook her head slightly, brown hair flipping smoothly with the motion. It was so hard to focus on her; her figure kept fading in and out of view, with no definite lines rendering her body and her motions jerky and uncertain.

"I do not remember anything like that," she said glumly, her eyes focused on her transparent feet like they were the most interesting things in the world – which they could be, considering how they kept blurring and solidifying in front of Zila's eyes. "Only anger, and how someone stabbed me here." Her hand moved to the vicious tear in her dark robe, where blood had stiffened the edges and coated her ghostly flesh. Zila eyed it cautiously, though he knew that if he were to try and touch it his fingers would merely pass through her.

"Anger? What for?" Yue was really grilling the girl on this, though he didn't know why. Although – he felt as though he had seen her around somewhere before, though he had no idea where or why. Her face kept flickering just as a spark of recognition came in the back of his mind, and so his mind kept going through the cycle of an _aha!_ moment, then nothing, then almost _aha!_ again. It was getting rather annoying.

"I was stabbed," the girl repeated, giving Yue a look that raised Zila's hackles; it clearly told them that she thought the older girl stupid. But wait, he couldn't make assumptions quite yet, as there was a fair chance the ghost was older than she looked. He doubted she would remember her age if he asked, though.

After a moment Yue nodded tersely, saying, "Fair enough. Are you sticking around?"

There was a ghostly shrug, a ripple passing from the slight girl's shoulders down to the tips of her flowing robe. "I have nowhere else to go." Her tone was hollow, as was her eyes, as they flicked upwards to meet the Arcanine's. She said nothing more, even when Yue prompted her with silence.

After a moment their leader of sorts turned to both him and Hikaru. "You all right with this?" she asked in a low voice, though it was obvious the ghost girl could still hear. Zila nodded while Hikaru gave a noncommittal shrug, indicating he wouldn't argue. Yue turned back and a small smile forced its way onto her face. "You're welcome to come with us. We're on our way to Sunyshore."

Something registered in the ghost's expression, which had remained largely unchanged during the whole conversation – but it was gone as soon as it had come, and Zila wondered if he had almost imagined it. "Thank you," she said instead, without any other words, and she fell into step next to them as they began to walk, with her floating, of course.

About ten steps into their trek Zila blurted, "We need to call you something, though." Everyone turned to look at him, and he was grateful for the hood that hid his face, no matter how fake it was. "You know, a name. It feels wrong to call you, well, 'you' all the time, get my drift?"

The ghost tilted her head and nodded slightly, brow furrowed with an almost delicate air. She seemed to be thinking hard, and Zila supposed that made sense; names were something you couldn't mess up, because they were things that stuck with a person for the rest of their life, no matter what happened. "Crythania," she said at last, after such a delay that they had begun walking again, thinking she would not respond. "I'd like to be called Crythania."

There was a brief pause, in which Zila immediately felt the name register somewhere deep in his mind, and he knew right then that he somehow knew who this ghost was. It was apparent he wasn't the only one; both Hikaru and Yue were frowning more deeply than usual, or at least Hikaru's eyes were flashing with something unreadable. The Shuppet regarded them patiently, gauging their reactions without so much as a bat of her eye.

Then: "Crythania it is," Yue said coolly, and with that, they turned and trekked onwards with their new ghost friend floating close behind.

* * *

The sunlight was warm against his eyelids, but even when muted it burned his retinas. His wrist immediately flung itself across his face with a hiss, shielding his eyes with a blessed curtain of shadow, and he groaned as he registered the pain flashing in various places in his body. Most prominently, he could feel the crackle of dried blood on his forehead, right by his temple, indicating he was either suffering from a concussion or had gotten a nasty head wound. Considering the pulsing pain he felt there, as his free hand meandered around and located a sizable bump, he decided it was the beginnings of a brain injury.

He tried to remember where he was and why he was lying very obviously on the ground where anyone could see him. It had something to do with… hm. A ghost, and an Arcanine, there was conversation, and then Nina fucked something up and – oh, that was right, Rhyne knocked them out because the Ninetales tried to attack him, and Blade just so happened to be in the crossfire. Ow, his head.

He decided that it would be in his best interests to check on his fellow Assassin.

His whole body shrieked in protest the moment he pushed himself up with his elbows, but he gritted his teeth and managed to get his body into a sitting position, slouching over and his palms flat on the ground for support. He held his breath and arched his back as far as he dared, hearing bones crack and feeling flashes of pain running up and down his spine. Still, once it was done, he felt a little better, and he grunted with effort as he got up onto his feet. He felt like he'd run ten miles without taking a break, as well as falling down a ravine halfway through (he could make that analogy because he had done just that, though in a far more dramatic matter).

Nina lay close by, her face bloody and her nose obviously broken. He supposed he would do her a kindness and flipped her so she was on her back, slipping one hand to support her head and neck while the other settled near her face. He put three fingers on the bridge of her nose – middle, index, thumb – and with a prayer that she wouldn't kill him, he pulled them down, pulling bone and cartilage back into a straight positioning. Nina's eyes snapped open and she gave a half-hearted snarl, but she didn't stop him and only seemed to regain her wits when he released her nose.

"What – happened?" she asked thickly, only to turn her head and hack up a sizeable amount of blood. It was lucky for her that he was holding her head up, otherwise there would be a chance of her choking on her own bodily fluids. "I feel like shit."

"You look like shit," Blade responded mildly, pushing her unmercifully into a seated position so she couldn't retaliate to the remark. In the end it didn't seem like it was necessary; she was as immobile as a sack of potatoes. He felt her bones shift under his hands as he did push her up in any case, and she let out a pitiful moan as he began to dig his thumbs into her shoulders in a massage of sorts. "You remember what happened?"

She leaned into his skillful fingers, her head lolling back with her scarlet hair brushing his hands. He honestly had no idea why he was helping her, but he supposed it had something to do with her being his superior – and she'd kick his ass if he just left her here in the dust. There was a prolonged pause before she said anything, and once she did, Blade couldn't suppress a chuckle: "No."

"Nothing?"

"You're obviously enjoying this. Don't push my fucking buttons." At that he knew she was still Nina at any rate, and now one of her hands rose to finger her forehead as he continued to loosen the muscles in her shoulders. She poked the direct center of the bump there, where blood from it still trickled down her face, and immediately she hissed, "Arceus, my head."

"Yeah, you hit it pretty hard," Blade said neutrally, omitting the fact that it was his fault that the wound was there in the first place, when he'd driver her down with his knee against her neck. "That's probably why you don't remember much."

"Urgh." She used him as a footstool of sorts and pushed herself to her feet, swaying as she gritted her teeth and forced herself to regain her balance. Blade watched this with amusement, straightening up besides her, and then he shoved his hands in his pockets, knowing that if he tried to help her he would likely end up with a black eye. Speaking of which, the skin around one of them felt a little puffy – he should probably get that looked at later.

"Back to the HQ?" he asked her, nudging her along in the correct direction with his foot. She grunted assent and obediently followed him when he began to walk, albeit with a slight sway and unsteady foot. Normally he would've made fun of her, but now he wasn't sure if that was a good idea, seeing how vulnerable she was at the moment, so he kept silent. Besides, once she regained her senses and remembered he'd mocked her, she would avenge herself for sure.

After a few moments of padding along, with him silent and her breaths ragged, she asked him, her voice pathetically small, "What happened?"

He debated whether to give her the shorter version or to go into detail, and then shrugged and decided to go with condensed. "We saw some Assassins of Meloetta and the Speaker of Mew knocked us out when you decided to attack him."

She blinked stupidly at him for a few moments, rapidly, though her step did not slow – nor did his, after all, and she was merely following him – and then she said, with the tone of someone who had discovered something something shiny, "I attacked the Speaker of Mew?"

"Yup," Blade confirmed without preamble.

She was quiet for a while longer, and they drew nearer to the town's gates. "I hate to say this, but in retrospect, that was pretty stupid of me," Nina admitted grudgingly, and Blade froze in place for just a second, his step wavering just for a second before continuing on. She gave him her signature glare when she saw him staring in shock, one that could peel paint within seconds, and he only realized his jaw hung open when she gave his head a smart slap and hissed, "Stop it."

He closed his mouth and managed to tear his glance away from her, but it still took him a while to gather his thoughts and then utter them in coherent sentences. In the end it came out as "I think that's the first time you ever – and I mean fucking _ever_ – have said you made a mistake." Then he cursed mentally and resigned himself for the flurry of anger that would follow, for no one, not even him, could get away with insulting Nina to her face.

Once again, to his utmost shock, she didn't even retaliate, at least not violently. "I don't need you to tell me that, asshole," she grumbled instead, shoving her hands into the pockets of her green, skin-tight pants. "Let's just go talk to Niko."

He didn't reply, in fear of reawakening her fury and causing her to go after him. He was at a distinct disadvantage against her, him being a Bug-type after all, so he couldn't afford to get hit by one of her fire attacks. Instead they walked alongside each other in silence, passing the guards in front of the town's gates without even glancing their way. The guards were, of course, smart enough to know not to say a word, instead eyeing them with a wariness that was becoming more and more common in the people of the region.

It appeared to be early morning, so there was little hubbub in Veilstone's center square for the moment, but even so Pokemon went out of their way to avoid the pair as they continued to walk to the Temple of Arceus, sensing correctly that they were dangerous and not afraid to rashly attack those who bothered them. Thus Blade and Nina arrived without event to the doorstep of the headquarters, walking in with small nods to the door guards, and then Nina sniffed with her nose and held an arm out to stop Blade from walking further.

"I smell something," she hissed, her nine tails waving softly, all in synchronization, and the Scizor nodded and gestured for her to go, he'd follow. She bounded away, running despite the wounds that had weighed her down earlier and the concussion blurring her vision, and he was right behind her, prepared to steady her if she showed any signs of falling.

They eventually arrived in the courtyard located near the west wing of the place, where she burst through the doors and bared her teeth in a snarl, Blade close behind. Three people looked up, one with no change in facial countenance at all, another with fire burning in their eyes, the last with a politely surprised expression.

"Can we help you?" the last one, a girl with blonde hair and electricity crackling around her hand, asked, shifting her stance to face them. She was young and inexperienced, but Blade sensed that even despite that, she was powerful, and not too dumb to get herself hurt that easily, seeing as she did not dissipate the sparks dancing between her fingers. Her other two companions, one tall and dark, the other short and furious, stood in silence.

Nina growled deep in her throat, placing one foot behind her and preparing to lunge forward, "_Flame Riders_," and Blade didn't question how she knew who they were, he simply believed her. So when she charged forward, dangerous even though she was injured, he followed, feeling rather weak in the knees but still lifting his arms in a cross, ready to unleash an X-Scissor attack.

The taller guy, whose dark hair shielded one half of his face, immediately placed himself between the two younger Pokemon, his single visible eye glowing violet. Blade grinned to himself, twisting out of the way of a Psychic attack by ducking behind Nina, and while she yelped and took the full blow he lunged for him.

To his surprise, one of the kids blocked him with a skilled, elegant roundhouse kick, her foot landing soundly in his stomach. He screeched when electricity ran up his body and he was launched sideways, twitching on the ground as the current ran its course, though he quickly got to his feet – only to be kicked back down by the same girl, this time without sparks, but then Nina was on her and he was free to scrabble to his feet.

"Pepper!" the short boy yelled, and then Blade landed a solid Iron Head on him and the guy went flying in the air. He flipped in the air and landed hard on his feet, wiping his mouth with a hand, and the Scizor saw blood running from his lip; he'd been fighting before and losing, it seemed, and Blade grinned viciously and utilized his speed to come close, kneeing him hard in the stomach.

As he'd suspected, the boy coughed violently and blood came out, and he watched, satisfied, as his trajectory came close to the ground – only to be caught by a violet glow, and the boy was floated gently to the ground, where the girl immediately put herself between the foes and what was probably her friend. The tall one's facial expression had still remained unchanged, which was a little spooky, but Blade took courage from Nina's unending bloodlust and lunged at them again, feeling a manic grin on his face.

Then, quite suddenly, both he and Nina were constricted and fell forward flat on their face, as a tangle of weeds and grass had woven itself around their ankles, and a familiar voice said coldly, "What do you two think you're doing?"

There was a crackling noise and Blade assumed Nina had burned through her bonds. He confirmed this when he turned over on his back, eyeing the action as Nina now turned her sight on the small Budew, being unable to contain herself when a new foe fell into her way. Blade opened his mouth to tell her to stop, only to start coughing and hacking violently, curling in slightly on himself.

He was still able to watch, however, as Nina got her ass handed back to her on a fucking silver platter.

James had summoned up a wall of green as Nina continuously bathed it in fire – Protect, Blade's brain supplied a moment too late – and was doing some sort of complex motion with his hands that the Scizor didn't quite know what meant. It was only when someone murmured "Swords Dance" somewhere behind him that he got it, and even then it was far too late for Nina, who took a neat punch to the stomach. She folded over without preamble, and then James simply performed Grass Knot again, this time over her hands as well.

Man. It had been forever since Blade had seen James fight. Then again, one couldn't become the Speaker's assistant without reason.

"I repeat, what do you think you're doing?" The Budew's voice was as icy as snow.

"They're Flame Riders, James!" Nina said through gritted teeth after a moment, turning her head to spit out the dirt that had worked its way into her mouth. Blade regarded this with blank comprehension; he mused belatedly whether he'd hit his head again or something.

The Budew, small and soft-spoken yet not weak, said quietly, coldly, "The Speaker will not be pleased that you attacked his guests, both of you. You'll be coming with me." The Scizor sighed but didn't complain. "As for you, Nero, Pepper, Silver," here Blade mentally attached each name to a face, guessing with the names but assuming Silver was the shorter boy, "Continue on, and I apologize profusely for the immature actions of our _top_ two assassins."

The vines came off his ankles then, and both he and Nina were rudely pulled to their feet by a hard-eyed James, whose glare clearly told them not to say a word and not to fight him, even when they heard snickers and the girl say thoughtfully, "For Assassins, they're pretty rash," with Nero's response being "Assassins of Shaymin were never known for being clever." Then they were dragged out the door and into the many corridors of the place, and soon he lost track of where he was.

And then, before he was fully aware of it, Blade found himself and Nina in Niko's office, with James standing slightly behind Niko's seat as the Speaker himself looked at them. His irritation and disapproval in his eyes sent chills down the Scizor's spine, and a fire started in his stomach in anger as the Pachirisu growled, "Next time do anything of that magnitude of stupid we'll see how you like being thrown in the streets."

Nina butted in right then and hissed, "But Niko, they're – "

"That's 'Speaker' to you." The Assassin recoiled, glaring with deep fury, as Niko continued harshly, "Do not think you can be rude to me when you have clearly done something I did not tell you do to."

"Speaker, they were – "

Niko glared even more intensely at her, and Blade stared at his feet, as the Speaker snarled, "You take orders, you do your orders, you wait for more orders. That's what an Assassin _does_. You do _not_ go off on your own and try to do things I did not ask you to."

"But they were – "

"Shut up and get out of my sight."

"Flame Riders!"

Niko went silent then, staring at her with eyes as hard as stone. Then: "It seems I failed to tell you that I retracted your previous mission. You are currently not assigned to have anything to do with the Flame Riders."

There was silence, and then Nina said doubtfully, "What?"

He did not offer an explanation and instead said icily, "I'll send for you if I need your services – which, at this point, I don't think I'll ever want again."

Even Blade winced at that, and Nina gritted her teeth but bowed deeply at the waist before retreating. The door slammed behind her, though, clearly showing her anger, and then Blade was left alone, shifting on his feet and feeling his head throb with pain. His whole body hurt, actually, from that shock he had received from the girl, Pepper; she was as strong as he had assumed, and a little more, even.

"I would give you the same talk I gave to Nina," Niko began, and Blade's head snapped up, only for him to sway with the dizziness the motion brought, "But that would be pointless, because you are not dumb enough to blindly follow her orders." He wondered if he should take that as a compliment or an insult as the Pachirisu continued, "I will be going on the assumption that you originally tried to stop her from doing something stupid, only to join in when you realized that she would be getting herself killed."

He'd done that when she'd tried to attack the Speaker of Mew, though he'd failed to stop her and he hadn't joined in, but Blade realized he probably shouldn't say he hadn't attempted the same thing when she attacked the three in the courtyard as well. "Thank you, Speaker," he mumbled instead, feeling as though his tongue was far too large for his mouth, and far too clumsy as well.

Niko nodded in acknowledgement of the comment and swept on. "Therefore, while she will not be demoted from her post for the moment, I'll consider this your probation period. Prove yourself worthy and I might put you in her slot. Understood?"

He was being… rewarded? What sort of punishment was this? "Understood," he rasped, coughing and covering his mouth with his elbow. Arceus, he felt like shit. "Thank you, Speaker."

Niko nodded, his eyes cold and his demeanor distant as he turned to his trusted assistant. "James, if you would get him to the ward, please."

"Of course, Speaker." Blade blinked groggily as James stepped neatly around the Pachirisu's desk and hooked his hand through one of his arms, gently leading him out the door and into the hallway. He couldn't get his mouth to work and instead followed the Budew blindly, and when James released him and then someone new took him aside at the infirmary he was already half-asleep.

By the time skilled hands had settled him into a bed, he had already passed out.

* * *

Even though his eyes were sightless, Shuet detected the ghost far earlier than most Pokemon, if one ignored those with a sensitive nose – which he had as well, seeing as he was a Lucario.

In any case, he knew right away that he should stay out of this ghost's way, considering the magnitude of aura coming off of the guy, in waves that he could feel in his very bones. This person was ancient and powerful, definitely not someone he'd want to come across badly. Best to avoid him entirely, then; it wasn't as if the ghost could detect someone who didn't want to be found, now was it?

Shuet had learned early on in his career as runner to wear dark clothes and to never let anyone see you, if one didn't want any questions to be asked. This policy paid off once again as he blended into the trees and continued to trek, albeit silently, past the ghost drifting forward, intent, it seemed, on the Temple of Kyurem.

He briefly considered following to find out the ghost's purpose, but quickly decided against it. Not any of his business, and besides, he couldn't find it in himself to care all that much. Polen was, for a higher-up, pretty chill, and with that cunning Furret at his side, he could handle a ghostie. Well. No, he couldn't, not in a fight in any case, but if the ghost came in peace, they would be fine. Besides, he didn't care all too much, as stated previously.

It wasn't a long way to Veilstone, so Shuet settled on a steady jog through the thick foliage located off the main path, easily dodging branches and roots with his ability to 'see' with auras. For a job, it was also pretty straightforward. The last Speaker had sent him on complicated shit that really didn't make much sense – there was much ado about being stealthy and killing himself rather than giving up his message, which was pointless seeing as they would find it even more easily if he was dead – and had paid him minimal wage. He wasn't sure about Polen but hey, with an old friend, he was willing to work, plus he'd probably get more money.

And then he tripped on a vine snaking its way on the forest floor and he straightened himself up with a grumble. _Focus, idiot._

It was complicated business, trying to explain how he could usually know where plants were – after all, they didn't have auras, right? And then he'd have to inform the ignorant that yes, all living things have auras, or at least they did in his vision, before either knocking them out or absconding with their goods. Yes, _their _goods. Pickpocketing, man. A good skill, that.

He maintained the fact that it was passive-aggressive even though it wasn't, just to get a rise out of people. He enjoyed it far too much when people got angry, even more so when he messed up their plans and they have to flail around to regain their footing. That was probably why only fellow assholes get along with him (not naming any names _Polen_), because they understood him. Sort of.

He hit a low-hanging branch with his face and banished all thoughts, focusing entirely on 'seeing' and not slamming into or tripping on things. Which is when he sensed the exception to the asshole rule, making a beeline to intercept his path. He braced himself for impact in three, two, one –

"Hey, Shuet! Fancy meeting you here!"

He groaned inwardly and turned in the direction where a violently blue aura awaited him. He knew without seeing that the guy was grinning a blindingly brilliant smile.

"You stupid Oshawott," he snapped, exasperated. "How the hell do you find me all the time?"

"Ha ha, call it a sixth sense! Nice to see you to, by the way." A slight pause, and then the Oshawott asked eagerly, "How's it going?"

"Ace, I'm busy right now. Kindly fuck off and leave me alone."

Normally that would send someone running, but Shuet knew well enough it would be entirely ineffective, and, as it were, it was. "Fat chance. What're you up to?"

It was then that he remembered, belatedly, that Ace worked for the Order of Kyurem and the Order of Arceus as a double-agent, so of course he would know Shuet's schedule, or at least have an outline of it. "Super secret shit, the usual. You?"

"Good alliteration! I'm on my way to do some super secret shit, too. I bet yours in more exciting than mine, though." He wasn't able to see Ace frown unhappily, but more in a bored sort of way, as the Oshawott continued, "Been a while since I've seen you last. You wanna meet up in a few days or something?"

If he was sane, he would refuse, for no one could stand the company of this idiot for long. But then, considering who he was and what he had been through, could he ever safely say he was ever in the right mind?

"Yeah, sure. That one café in Veilstone in two days at noon?"

"You got it, buddy. See ya then!"

And just like that, he was gone, and Shuet was trekking onwards, feeling a little bit more hopeful of the future. Until he ran straight into a tree's trunk, earning him a bloody nose and no way of knowing if he looked like he'd been punched, or even whether if you'd cleaned it up well enough. Being blind kind of sort of sucks.

* * *

**Credits, in order of appearance (be prepared, there are a lot of these. I am currently juggling 25 OCs in total)**:

Xander **is from** AtmosBreak**.**

Luco **is the OC from** AshKetchumDarkSide**.**

Jin **belongs to** BladeOfTheEclipse**.**

Rein **comes from** Silverdragon98**.**

Nightingale **is owned by** SparkLuxLucios**.**

Mitch **the Gardevoir comes from** Tisuro**.**

Pepper **belongs to** Whismur Publishing House**,** **previously known as xXViridianPhoenixXx.**

Vee **is mine.**

Silver **belongs to** BalancedHex1232**.**

Nero **belongs to** BladeOfTheEclipse.

James **is mine.**

Nexus **belongs to** BalancedHex1232**.**

Polen **is mine.**

Oriole **is from** SnowKiter**.**

Jayden **belongs to** Whismur Publishing House**, previously known as xXViridianPhoenixXx. **

Jeckyal **hails from the land of** pokefan113**. I'm back now :)**

Crythania **belongs to** Tisuro**.**

Yue **is from** xiLovePandas

Zila **belongs to** TheGlaceonFanatic**. Remind me, did you change your pen name? I'll go change it on my list if so.**

Hikaru **comes from** Nightfall00**, whom I've always respected because of his OC stories... and also because he always seems to find them.**

Nina **belongs to** KCNederland**.**

Blade **comes from** Flash3**. **

Niko **is from** Raven Kat**.**

Shuet **belongs to** LiteShadowXIII**. Sorry for potentially going OOC, but I imagine Shuet as a 'I-don't-care' sort of guy.**

Rhy **comes from** stelladog0090.

Ace **belongs to** XtremeBlaze**. Good to have you back ;)**

* * *

_**OCs will be accepted for the entirety of the story. Please review the form on my profile and send them in by PM only. You can send two OCs!**_


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